If I had the slightest bit of drawing talent, I’d make a cartoon of myself with cats and kittens hanging off me in every direction, a cottage cheese container containing a stool sample (from a kitten, wiseass) in one hand, and a cat carrier in the other. I made so many trips to the vet last week with stool samples that I’m almost out of the convenient cottage cheese containers I use to carry them in.
Which reminds me – I find it very annoying that you can get single serving containers of nonfat plain yogurt but not regular-fat plain yogurt. I occasionally give cats and kittens dabs of yogurt with Forti-Flora mixed in. I don’t do it often enough to need a big container of yogurt, but I like to have yogurt on hand. What I ought to do, really, is make my own yogurt. But that seems like more work than I want to do, considering we don’t really eat yogurt.
I really need to get my ass to Kohl’s or to the mall and buy some decent bras. I have one that fits well, which I really only wear if I’m going out in public. At home, I almost always wear sports bras, because they’re so comfortable.
Okay, clearly I have nothing to say. Let’s move on to the cats, shall we?
As of last night, I can report that miss Ciara is doing well and should be ready to head off to Petsmart on Friday. I suppose I COULD take her today (adoption hours are held tonight), but I want to make sure she’s okay for real, and not just teasing me.
I can’t get over what a sweet, sweet girl she is. I think she got a little overshadowed by her brothers, and now that they’re gone, I can see what a gem she is. Sweet, friendly, playful, nice to other kitties. She’s the total package!
More pics from last week.
“Ya know, I was just LAYING here taking a snooze, and before I knew it, these little monsters had latched on!”
Cillian, keeping an eye on stuff.
Clove thinks about making a jump at Coriander. (We’ve been calling Coriander “Alice, Jr.” because Fred never learns any of the fosters’ names, so instead of continually calling her “The one that looks like Alice” so he’ll know who I’m talking about, I’ve resorted to “Alice, Jr.”)
Clove stole that toy from Cillian. He’s too gentle for his own good!
Oh, that little face. Couldn’t you just kiss her?
Snoozin’ Spicies.
Finnegan, watching birds.
If you’re going to look like a pouty princess all the time, you might end up with the nickname Pouty Princess, brat.
Fergus Simon, on the platform in the kitchen. Yeah, I’d say they made themselves at home while they were here.
Sugarbutt, always comfy.
Previously
2010: Random pics.
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: Nest = empty.
2006: If you could possibly NOT lay three inches from me and spend 63 hours slurping on your asshole so that I am driven into a homicidal rage and forced to run you out of the room, I would very much appreciate it.
2005: They’ll be fine, they’ll be fine, they’ll be fine, they’ll be fine…
2004: And I’m not even a George Michael fan. Though “Faith” rocks the casbah.
2003: No entry.
2002: Fred: “It’s dick in your mouth good!”
2001: No entry.
2000: You know, life would just be so much simpler if I were already queen of the world and in charge of punishments and such.