So, about that orange kitten ...

When I was at the farm on Friday evening (see previous post), the woman pointed out a wee orange kitten.  "This one's the baby," she said.  "It's the only kitten left from this summer.  And I'm scared to death that something's going to happen to her.  Do you think you could find her a home?"

Well.  I knew that the rescue was currently experiencing kitten overload, but the idea of leaving that tiny kitten there in that cold barn with all those big ol' barn cats was ... not comfortable.  I know, I KNOW, I'm a big idiot.  What can I say?  I called the rescue when I got home, explained the situation, and asked if there was any way they could squeeze in one more, if I agreed to foster it and bring it in ASAP for leuk testing.  Done!  Oh, and I also ended up kitten-sitting a bunch of bottle-feeders for the rescue on Sunday, but hey, quid pro quo. 

Saturday afternoon, I went and scooped up the kitten.  "Are you sure you want to do this?," I asked the woman.  "Oh, yes," the woman said.  "She's such a friendly little thing, and I'm scared that she'd going to end up under a tractor or something."  "Does she have a name?," I asked.  "Oh, no, no," the woman said, but I thought I heard her mention something about "Pumpkin" before I left.

Meet Punkin Pie:

Yes, yes, that *is* my bathroom, where she spent Saturday evening, since  I couldn't get her in for leuk testing until Sunday morning.  (You don't ever want to mix untested kittens with ones who have already been tested.) As you can see, she is undernourished, and her back legs seem to be somewhat lacking in muscle tone, although she does manage to get around with no problem.   The woman thought she was around four months old, although when I weighed her she was only a little over two pounds, so she's either a lot younger than the woman thought, or she's got some serious weight to make up. 

Sunday morning was the leuk/FIV test (negative!  yaaaaaay!), so it was time to meet the Foster Campers.

Check out the floofy tail on that kitten on the left!  They were ALL pretty floofy, and intensely curious, but Punkin is used to big ol' barn cats, so anytime the campers would get too aggressive, she'd hiss and yowl and they'd back right off.

Mama had to check out the situation as well, by doing a little butt-sniffin':

  And by last night, the other kittens were snuggling up to Punkin at naptime.  I think she's going to be fine as the newest member of Foster Camp.

Welcome, little Punkin Pie!  It's good to have you with us.

Anybody want a kitten?  :)

Weekend! Update!

Just a quick post - I visited the farm Friday after work.

The woman is doing an AMAZING job - she just needs some help with a situation that has gotten out of hand.

The cats are well-fed and appear to be healthy - the spay/neuter efforts here just need to get ramped up a bit, and that's where I can help.

I know that some of you may be looking at the photos and cringing right now, saying "how could someone let this happen?!", but I will tell you what, this is very, very common around here, especially in rural areas.  Without any easily-available low-cost spay/neuter options, this is where things end up.  But again, this woman is doing a spectacular job with her barn cats, and all the cats that keep getting dumped at her place, and I'm looking forward to working (well, volunteering, ha) with her.

And there may or may not be a wee orange kitten in my bathroom right now.

D'OH!

More to come.

Time for another fun round of ...

... the size of the box versus the size of the thing in the box!

Today's version:  Tent pegs.

The size of the box:

The size of the things in the box:

 Well, at least they got the length right.  *sigh*  AND, they didn't fill up the box with ten billion packing peanuts, so kudos.

Plus, the kittens will enjoy the box, so there's that.  Ha.

Fools rush in ...

I got a call the other night from a woman who owns a farm not far from me.  She's got a little situation with her barn cats.  Even though she's been taking the ones she can catch to get spayed and neutered, there are a few ferals who have been eluding her capture and keep reproducing, as cats are wont to do.  As a result, she currently has forty-six cats.

*GULP*

As I said, some of them are spayed and neutered, but a lot of them are not, and the ones who are not are feral.  She called me asking for help, so I'm going to visit her farm on Friday night and try to get a handle on the situation. I drive past the place twice a day on my commute, so I know where it is and that it's a well-kept farm.  Actually, a lot of the fall pics I posted yesterday were taken on the road this woman lives on.  The rescues I'm currently volunteering for are presently overloaded trying to help with other community cats, so I'm going to try and handle this one myself.  FAMOUS LAST WORDS.  haha.  I can live-trap no problem, but how am I only going to trap the cats who need it, without trapping the cats who've already been altered?  She says she knows which ones have already been done, but that won't stop them from taking the bait come trapping time. (I don't think she's been ear-tipping; I'm going to try and talk her into tipping the ones we get done.) She wanted to know if I could just come with, like, a giant net and only catch the ones she points out to me who she knows needs to be done, which, haha,  NO.  I no longer mess with feral cats, and the idea of getting a struggling, angry feral out of a net and into a carrier is NOT APPEALING to me.  *shudder*.  Sorry, it's live-trap or nothin'.  And yes, I can use my trap-not-a-traps, but I think I'll go with standard traps first.  Nice, sturdy, STEEL traps.  :) 

She says she can only afford to do a few at a time, so I'm thinking I can just saturation trap, maybe a couple of times a month as surgery slots become available at area clinics.  So if, say, she's got an appointment to get four ferals altered on a certain date, I can go up the night before with, say, ten traps, and then after trapping, we can free the ones the woman says have already been done, and just take the ones who need it to the appointment on that date.

Of course, it'll be the last stubborn few who will present the most problem, but I figure we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.  Breeding season won't kick in again until Spring, so we've got some time to get a handle on the problem.  In the meantime, if anybody's got any suggestions on how to make this run more smoothly, I'M ALL EARS.

How do I get myself  INTO this stuff?!  Sheesh.

Autumn in New York

Yep, it's that time of year again - the most beautiful time of the year here in upstate New York.  All of these pictures were taken yesterday on the back roads I drive to get back and forth to the office every day.

Weekend Report, aka No Matter What I Do It Involves Cats

First stop Saturday morning was the local rabies clinic.  Tinks was due, and it would have cost $28.00 at my vet's office and $33.00 at Tractor Supply.  Cost at the county-run clinic?  Five bucks.  Sold!

Of course, there WAS a little catch:

But!  It was a beautiful morning, and I knew from past experience that the line moves quickly.  Tinks and I were in and done in half an hour; unfortunately, we are both now DEAF from the f*cking Shih Tzu behind us in line, who shriek-barked for the entire half hour.

The SECOND road trip that day was for an adoption event!

The star of this show was Jughead, who spent the afternoon chillin' in his t-shirt:

 Whenever a dog would go by, the kittens would scramble for the pup tent:

"Is he gone yet?" says India.  See also:  Pete hanging in the litterbox. 

Oh no!  The wicked witch captured a cat!  

These guys are getting to be pros at the whole "adoption event" thing.  Hopefully there will soon be some adoptions!

More kitten pics

I put an empty cat food storage container on its side in the Foster Room this morning, to see who would be stupid, er, ADVENTUROUS enough to climb into it.

                                                                    Pistol Pete had a go:

Jughead was the next to give it a shot, although he backed out pretty quickly:

And finally, Sandy said "oh what the heck", but even he decided that discretion was the better part of valor and only went about halfway in:

I am proud relieved to be able to report that none of the kittens was gullible stupid adventurous enough to actually insert themselves into the empty container.  This is, however, EXACTLY why I don't keep the water pitcher in the room.  Better safe than sorry, eh?

And in OTHER news from this morning in the Foster Room, Squeegee decided that he was going to take out a curtain rod.  By CLIMBING ON IT.  And after he successfully dismantled the curtain rod?  He did this:

That's right, the little snotski STUCK HIS TONGUE OUT AT ME.

Not cool, Squeeg.  Not cool.  *sigh*.

I may be odd, but at least I'm not THIS odd ...

Check it out:

House for sale in Avon, CT

I first saw this on a friend's Facebook page, and someone commented, "Well, it IS Avon," which makes me wonder what is in the water in Avon.

Holy cow.

Friendly Mama Rosa

Okay, first of all, if any of you got some weird post from here titled "Hello Rockygrace", IGNORE AND DELETE IT, okay?  I've evidently been spammed, and I have no idea where the link in that post might lead to, but I'm pretty sure it's garbage, and DEFINITELY not posted by me.  God.

Now!  On with the regular blog post.  

Mama Rosalita is a sweetheart of a cat, considering she had been outside on her own for some time before coming into rescue care.

Her favorite thing to do is get up in the chair behind me when I'm sitting on the floor and rub, rub, rub her face against the back of my neck.  Weird, right?  Also kind of tickle-y, and when she does it before I leave for work in the morning I have to remember to check a mirror and make sure I don't have a rats' nest on the back of my head before I head for the office.

I was trying to get some pics of her the other day, and failing, because she was busy with the back of my NECK, so I finally said screw it and turned the camera around.

"Hey laydee can I rub your neck?":

"How about a shoulder rub?  You want a nice shoulder rub?":

"How about there?  That feel good?":

Usually by this point she's purring up a storm and I'm laughing at the silliness of it all.

"How about you?  You want a nice neck rub?":

Silly Rosa, the neck-rubbing kitty.  I do occasionally manage to get pics of her when she's NOT rubbing my neck, though.  Here she is, modeling this year's fashion in a bowler hat:

"Why, laydee?  Why you do this to me?"

And here she is, showing those kittens how feather-toy-catching is DONE:

Whoever adopts Rosa is going to be getting one fine and silly kitty, that's for sure.

The Epic. The Only. The Battle of the Box.

Doo doo doo!  Here I am, just minding mai own business in mai awesome box.  Gosh, I sure do love dis box!:

Oh no!  An intruder!  And I think he wants to steal mai box!:

Dis gon be good:

Halp!  Halp!  He is tryin to steal mai box!!

I will FIGHT to keep mai awesome box!:

BIF! BAM! POW!

heh heh heh dis MAI box now:

Oh no!  It's MAMA!:

Yes, it's Mama.  And the battle ended, not with a bang, but with a BATH.

And thus it was over; the epic 2016 Battle of the Box.  Its story will long be told, in hushed tones over cans of toona, of how the valiant Pistol Pete fought to keep his box, how Bam Bam defeated him in battle and claimed the box as his own, and how Mama stepped in and ruined the whole thing with a lousy BATH.  *sigh*  An awesome tale, indeed.

Okay, this is just too weird not to share

Did I mention the lump on my foot?  I had a lump on my foot.  One morning last week, I got up, took a shower, went to step out of the shower, and it felt like I'd stepped on a big old pebble.  OUCH!

Except I DIDN'T step on a pebble.  I didn't step on ANYthing, other than the bathroom floor.  It felt like I had a big old LUMP on the bottom of my foot, on the ball-part where the little toe connects.  Except there WASN'T any lump; not anything visible, anyway.  That foot looked exactly like the other foot, except it felt like there was a giant pebble (think somewhere between dime-sized and quarter-sized, and fairly flat, not round) taped to the bottom of my foot, so that each time I'd take a step, I'd have to LURCH.  It wasn't really terribly painful; it just FELT weird, like that part of my foot was asleep and tingly and had a giant pebble taped to it.

Oh lord.  Is it just me?  It's just me, isn't it?

So I hobbled around for a few days, going to work and running errands and setting and checking the cemetery trap, and by last Saturday (the day of the party!  yippee!), I noticed that my foot was starting to bruise.  That whole one side of my foot, along with my little toe, was all black and purple and bruise-y.  And by SUNday, the "lump" feeling was going away.  The foot looked like somebody hit it with a hammer, but at least I wasn't careening madly anymore.

Today?  The foot is still horribly bruised, but it FEELS normal, except for perhaps a little tenderness.

What. da. fuq.

How did I suddenly develop a giant invisible lump on my foot?  And how did it go away?  And why did my foot get all bruise-y?!  It's aliens, isn't it? It's aliens coming to live in my foot.

Given the way things are going lately, that sounds like the most logical explanation.  HA.

Stuff I've been doing lately

... other than catching strangers' cat, that is.

Let's see, on Saturday I had a little party for one of the groups I volunteer with.

Yeah, my party decorating skills leave something to be desired.  (Those were goodie bags.)  There weren't a ton of attendees, but we managed to demolish a pitcher of whiskey sours between us, so a good time was had by all (I hope.)

Sunday morning I squeezed in a little walk:

And then it was off to the rescue to pick up the next round of vaccines for the kittens.  Sunday afternoon was vaccination time, which was accomplished with the help of a friend.  I will tell you what, some of these kittens are mightily thick-skinned!  And they're getting so big!

It looks like they will be going to the adoption center to stay this coming weekend.  Right now, the plan is that I will keep Rosalita (Mama) here at my house so that her milk will dry up (she's STILL nursing these spoiled little kittens) and she can be spayed.

Bam Bam continues on the meds to try and resolve his breathing issues.  He's also on ear medications for an infection.  I don't know what's in those eardrops, but as soon as he's been dosed and is done shake-shake-shaking his head, the other kittens come running over to lick the leftovers off his fur.

haha yuck!

So that's about it.  I've been trying to shake off a headcold for the last two weeks, and I've got this weird LUMP on the bottom of my foot, and let me tell you what, all you youngsters out there:  Your health goes to SH*T once you hit fifty.  *sigh*

I think paddling is about done for the season, which means my hiking time will be increasing.  I've got to rake the leaves out of the backyard and put them on the gardens, and get the covers on the crawlspace flood vents, and pretty soon it will time for Halloween decorations.  Where did the summer go?

Game Cam Pic of the Week!

I'm posting this everywhere I can think of, because in the midst of what was a pretty grim week a couple of weeks ago, I came across this pic while scrolling though my game cam photos and burst out laughing.

Ya gotta admire an overachiever!