I was born in 1962; you do the math. (See also: I'm too lazy to remember to update this thing regularly.) I bought my first house in the summer of 2009; I share it three cats and with the memories of The Runt and Little Girl, who both passed away in 2011. Rocky, the cat for whom this blog was named, passed away in 2008; I miss them all. I wish I lived somewhere where the winters weren't eight months long; other than that, life is good.
Another Saturday, another adoption event at Tractor Supply. Gotta keep those cats movin'! As has become the custom, potential adopters were waiting for us when we got there. It's amazing when the crates of cats come through the doors and people start oohing and aahing and I swear they'd rush the gates if the store had them. It's like I'm escorting a rock band. I cannot even imagine what the upcoming kitten season will be like - we'll probably have to sell tickets or something.
Sammy and Mr. Cuddles (two adult cats who were adopted together!), and Gucci and Angel now have homes.
Okay, first off, when I left the house this morning, it was five below. Tuesday? Seven below.
Dear Mother Nature: CUT THE SH*T. It's March, for Pete's sake.
You know, I consider myself tough, but this weather is going to break me. I didn't sign up for this.
Oh, and speaking of tough, is anybody else watching that Nat Geo show, "Life Below Zero"? There's this woman on there, Sue, who lives, like, two hundred miles north of the Arctic Circle. Alone. She once lay injured after a grizzly attack for ten days before somebody found her. She swears like a sailor and drinks scotch and smokes cigars and I'm pretty sure I want to marry her, except then I'd have to move north of the Arctic Circle, so f*ck that sh*t.
Anyway! When I was grocery shopping last weekend, I saw bags of succotash in the frozen veggie section. The pic on the package showed lima beans and corn.
Really? I thought. I'd never actually given succotash much thought, but I thought it was like ... grits? Or hash browns made of vegetables?
Yeah, I don't get out much.
Anyway, I bought a package of succotash, took it home, opened it up, and
Lima beans and corn.
Tasty enough, but somehow not as exotic as I'd always pictured it.
If you guys know of any foods that I may have missed and should give a try, please let me know. I'll consider it my Endless Winter of 2014 Culinary Enlightenment Project.
Butter, that ungrateful wretch, is currently not happy with life on the Inside. He is spraying (yes, even neutered cats can still spray), and flinging litter all over the place, and talking angrily non-stop about "let me OUT of here dam it right now! RIGHT NOW! There are ladyfriends I need to see! I want a lawyer!"
Poor Butter. He doesn't understand that the ladyfriend thing? Yeah, not so much anymore.
But! His foster mom, who is displaying much more equanimity and patience than I ever could, says simply, "No worries!" Bless her.
Needless to say, the rescue will be waiting for Butter to calm down before contacting any of the wait-listers.
Get it together, Butter-boy. Your audience awaits you.
I thought it was, at first. I do have some fake stuffed birds around the house, the ones you buy at A.C. Moore to decorate wreaths and things with. And when I got home from Saturday's adoption event, I didn't even notice it. I took off my coat and my shoes, fed and played with the cats, then sat down in the living room and fired up the laptop, when I noticed that Bindi kept staring up toward the ceiling. Turning around to see what she was gazing at, I saw the bird, and thought, "Gee, that's really realistic looking." Then I thought, "I don't remember buying a fake bluejay, though." THEN I thought, "Oh, sh*t."
(a) I have no idea how one of the cats managed to wrassle a large, live, uninjured blue jay through the pet door. (b) I knew that butterfly net I bought at the dollar store would come in handy.
So, I mentioned the other day that I was on Butter Watch at work.
Butter is a stray in my office building's neighborhood. Butter is not fixed, and would come around anytime one of the other local strays came into heat. For a while it was thought that the crazy cat hoarder lady in the house on the corner owned him, but she denied it. Butter was a friendly dude, more than willing to come into the office for some petting and cat food.
I tried to get him into rescue care last summer, but the group for whom I was volunteering at the time said "no". Which is one of the reasons I no longer volunteer for that group. *cough*. Last fall, a different group told me that they would take him into the fold as long as I was willing to foster him, which I couldn't do at the time because my foster room was full.
Complicating the matter was the fact that Butter would often disappear for months at a time, show up for a day or two, and then disappear again.
Last Monday, Butter started hanging around the office again. I talked to my vet about making arrangements for an "emergency neuter", so that I could take him in as soon as he showed up, as opposed to trying to make an appointment for days ahead and then hoping he'd show up on the assigned date. The rescue group for whom I am now volunteering offered to take him into foster care (YAY) as long as he was neutered, and *I* agreed to pony up the money for the neuter, vaccinations, etc.
And then Butter disappeared again. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday ... no Butter. Was he off on one of his jaunts? Would he spend the next couple of months impregnating half the cats on the East side before I could get him vetted?
And then, on Friday ...
I grabbed that cat. I set him up with a pet bed, fed him, gave him catnip, called the rescue to alert them to clean out a room for him for the weekend, and tried to teach him the rudimentaries of the file system:
(The first two pics were taken last summer. The bottom pic was taken last Friday. You can see what a winter on the streets did to that poor cat.)
Butter went into temporary foster care Friday afternoon. I picked him up this morning and got his wormy, flea-ridden, ear-mite-ridden, scrawny butt to the vet, who pronounced him "adorable".
Providing all goes well at the vet's, Butter will go back into foster care this afternoon. He will be loved and cared for and petted and belly-rubbed (he LOVES it), until we are able to find him his Home That Is Meant To Be.