The Song of Her People

I was sitting watching TV last night, and I realized that it was STILL LIGHT OUT at six-thirty, and I was all, what strange miracle is this?

Daylight Savings Time, man.  THANK GOD.  Now if it would just warm up long enough to melt the crap-ton of snow in my yard, I would be eternally grateful.

I had to make a little roadtrip yesterday to pick up a special package:

When a rescue in a neighboring town put out a plea on facebook for foster homes for pregnant rescued cats, well ... you KNOW I had to jump right in.  Fools rush in and all that.  And I had that foster room just waiting for a cat in need:

Honey was an owner-surrender, from woman who had way too many cats, none of whom were spayed or neutered.  (They never are, dammit.  Freakin' hillbillies.)  Nature had taken its course, and she realized that she couldn't even properly care for the cats she owned, let alone the next generation.  Luckily she found the rescue she did, which is no-kill; if she had surrendered the cats to the SPCA shelter in that county, they would have been put down.  Well, first the SPCA would have charged her money to take the cats, and THEN they would have put them down.

Honey is under a year old.  This will be her first (AND LAST) litter.  She's got a ways to go in her pregnancy, so she will be with me for a while.  Her eyes are a bit of a mess, but we don't know if that's due to stress or something else, so I'll be watching to see if they improve or worsen.  She is scared to death right now; every time I enter the foster room she dashes underneath a dresser, so treating her eyes is a non-starter until she calms down.  Thankfully, she is not feral or aggressive, so she should start making progress socially once she's not so scared.  She sang us the Song of Her People all. night. long. last night, so needless to say nobody got any damn sleep.  Hopefully the frequency of her vocal concerts will diminish as she starts to feel more comfortable.

Yep.  Here we go again!