Gracie wanted me to remind y’all that you can vote for her once a day over at the Greenies competition. You know, if you wanted to. Hey, don’t look at me – I’m just passing the message along!
Reader Chrissy asked:
Our newly adopted cat, Kiero, will only eat his sister’s food. And by “sister” I mean, our dog Leona. We put his kibble in front of him and he will turn up his nose but as soon as we pour Leona’s food into her bowl, Kiero makes a beeline for it. Leona is good about sharing but we’re worried that Kiero isn’t getting what he needs as far as nutrients. He sat for nearly 6 months in a cage at our local animal shelter with two other cats and ate fine according to the employees there. I’m sure he’s just enjoying having the freedom to try something new but we’d like to get him on his own food. Do you have any suggestions?
I don’t have any suggestions myself (except to maybe separate Kiero and Leona at feeding time so he can’t get to her food? Is that an option?), but I know someone out there has a good idea, so y’all feel free to share your tips! (Chrissy, check the comments over at Love & Hisses, too, I’m posting this over there as well.)
After I mentioned the Flehmen response in my entry for yesterday, Katherine (Nate and Dora’s Mom)(Nate and Dora were formerly River and Inara, Kara’s kittens) sent me this picture:
Here is Tucker with his reaction after drinking water out of an igloo at a horse show. They do this all the time if they smell something odd, stanky, etc. I never figured out why he did it, except another horse had had a drink before him. Back wash? When one of the mares was in heat, she’d turn and spray pee on them. Naturally this was their response to that rude behavior! They ARE gelded, don’tchano. But we still had her fenced off from them.
Tucker’s all “WHY I NEVER!” Hee!
I swear upon everything holy – ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME SPRING OF 2012 ROBYN?! – that next year I am growing one – ONE, SPRING 2012 ROBYN, NOT TWO, NOT TWO AND A HALF, ONE – row of tomatoes. This nonsense where I plant two and a half rows of friggin’ tomatoes and then hardly ever get any decent tomatoes is FOR THE BIRDS. I’m going to plant one row, twenty four plants, and I will lavish love and attention upon every one of those tomatoes, and if I get a ton of decent tomatoes (NOT holding my breath), then that’s fabulous and if NOT, then I will buy a shitload of tomatoes at the farmer’s market to roast and freeze, and I’ll call it good enough.
BY GOD.
I think I mentioned that I yanked up the jalapenos on Sunday because they were starting to get all drama queeny and wilty and annoying, and I’ve made a ton of sweet pickled jalapenos, so it’s all good. The eggplants never really yielded anything decent, so I’m putting eggplants on the “if you plant any of these, I will rip your face off FRED” list for next year, and I’ve pulled up those plants. The acorn squash plants were doing really well, and then they all of a sudden started dying off, so in the end we got three acorn squash. We got about ten butternut squash, and may get more before all is said and done.
So at the moment, I’ve got about ten cabbages growing in the raised beds, two and a half rows of tomatoes in the big garden, and a half row of okra. Oh, and the Bhut Jolokia and bell peppers and Tabascos are still coming in, but those only require attention from Fred (if he wants something done with them, it’s his job to harvest them, I’m not messing with them), so the garden is pretty undemanding for the time being.
I thought about getting Mums for the front porch like I did last year, but the Begonias and Periwinkles on the front porch are still looking pretty happy, so I think I’ll keep those there ’til they start to die off and skip the Mums this year.
We’ve hit the time of year where I go through twice as much laundry in the course of a week, because I start out the day in jeans and a sweatshirt and switch to shorts and a t-shirt by mid-morning, then switch back to jeans and the sweatshirt for the evening. I’m not complaining (that was one long, hot summer), just reporting!
Do y’all remember Gail, who had a kitten literally follow her into her car on the first day of school? I posted a request for help for her here.
Well, last week I got an email from her. She’d had the kitten tested, and he came back as a strong positive for feline leukemia. Gail was, of course, heartbroken, and I couldn’t offer her anything but sympathy.
BUT THEN.
I got this email from her:
So after spending yesterday trying not to cry in front of my classes and fratically contacting all of my old contacts from running an exotic shelter, and pulling in every favor for every ferret and iguana I took in, I found a place for Oscar Wylde.
Sunday, we are traveling to upstate new York to a lovely woman who runs a shelter. She is going to quarantine him for 60 days and re-test. At that time, if he is negative, I will take him home (as I should be moved into a place by then) and isolate for another 60 days and retest. Either time, if he is positive (going to use the bone marrow test I think), she will take him into her groups FeLV+ building where he will free roam with 13 other positive cats.
No matter what, he is getting a chance. I did not want to take him to the local FeLV+ shelter as he would be put in with all the other positive cats and would have no chance to see if he can fight it off.
Feel free to share with your group. I am so glad I insist upon isolation when bringing foundlings in. I just wish I had instant tests on hand. And that this kitten wasn’t so damn cute. Thats him sitting on top of max’s lap in the bathroom. Poor thing, it is a really small bathroom.
Raven, my 6 month old tomorrow calico is a star crossed lover. She sits outside the bathroom door and talks to him day and night. He purrs against the door and tries to stick his paws out. She really wants him.
I thought some of y’all might be wondering what had happened with that kitten. Doesn’t he look like the sweetest little character? And the name is so awesome that I’m adding it to my list of potential names for future fosters!
(Keeping my fingers crossed that Oscar Wylde tests negative in 60 days – but SO glad that he’s got a place to end up, whether he retests as positive OR negative!)
“This little tiny toy duck tastes like chicken. GETIT? TASTES LIKE CHICKEN!”
“You aren’t laughing. Clearly you have no sense of humor.”
Their eyes are such a gorgeous color right now.
Charlie gives me the attitude.
Letting the Peppers Gang have the run of the upstairs is working out so well that I’m hesitant to give them the run of the house. They seem perfectly happy to hang out upstairs that I don’t see any need to push it. Adding Buster to the permanent resident mix is enough upset for the moment (even though there’s not been much of an upset, really) that I think we’ll stick with things the way they are for the time being.
Harlan’s all “And your mother dresses you funny!” and Sally’s giving me the hairy eyeball, all “That’s right, he said it! You wanna make something of it? I will mess you UP!” and Lucy’s all “Yeah! What they said!”
“Hey, guys! Come see what she’s wearing TODAY! TOTAL class! Why, that t-shirt’s only three sizes too big, and I think the shorts are older than she is!”
I cannot stand how cute Lucy is. When I go upstairs to hang out with them, she flops down on her back next to me and she trills at me until I rub her belly. And woe betide me if I stop petting before she’s ready for me to stop!
Invisible dance partner.
Harlan’s pot belly cracks me up.
Leaning tower of Everett.
She keeps her eyes on the prize.
Sugarbutt, in Stinkerbelle’s bed atop the kitchen cabinets. It’s odd – that’s been Stinkerbelle’s bed for months and months. Then last week, when Buster decided he’d start hanging out on top of the cabinets, directly across the room from her, Fred put a cat bed where Buster was hanging out. Next thing I knew, Buster was hanging out in Stinkerbelle’s bed, and Stinkerbelle was hanging out in Buster’s bed. Then suddenly Sugarbutt was all “Don’t mind if I do!” and he was in Stinkerbelle’s bed, Stinkerbelle was in Buster’s bed, and Buster was in Jake’s bed on the platform in the corner. Where was Jake? Hanging out in the box on the floor. Jake’s so laid-back, he doesn’t care.
Another odd thing: I happened to catch sight of Buster about two feet from Stinkerbelle one day. She was hanging in her bed, he was hanging out near her. She wasn’t growling or hissing or having hysterics. I do NOT know what that was about, because she’s never taken well to having other cats that close to her, except for her beloved Tommy. If it turns out that she’s developing a crush on Buster, I will be beside myself. THAT HUSSY BETTER NOT STEAL MY BUSTER FROM ME, is all I have to say.
Previously
2010: Poor ol’ Egg
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: “Hmm,” I say to Mister Boogers. “It’s almost 80 outside, but only 74 inside. Imagine that!”
2006: You really don’t want to fuck with the Plumbing Mafia.
2005: “GodDAMN you, Mister Boogers!” I yelled.
2004: “This book makes me want to have a baby!” I said to Fred when I was about halfway through the book. “Let’s have a baby!”
2003: No entry.
2002: Gag city.
2001: I think you know what I’m thinkin’.
2000: I’d like to return to my regularly scheduled life, please.