Sunday, Fred and I went up to the foster kitty room specifically so I could take pictures of each of their little faces and I got a bunch of really good pictures aside from those, and then when I sat down at my computer to look at the pictures, I found that the memory stick hadn’t been in the camera so none of those pictures had really been taken UGHHHH. I don’t know WHY this expensive, fancy camera can’t give you an error message if you try to take a picture without the memory stick in it. I also don’t know WHY my husband can NEVER put the memory stick back in the
camera when he’s DONE WITH IT.
Also, he’d decided that he was going to make Splash the Feral Kitty love him no matter what, so he dumped her out of her kitty pyramid and tried to pet her, and she ran under the sewing desk and hunched there, looking terrified. I talked to the woman Splash belonged to (who came and picked her up on Monday) and arranged to have her come pick Splash up, and then I wondered how on earth I was going to get that cat in the carrier. Because if she was in the kitty pyramid, it had been my plan to hold the pyramid with the opening matching up to the cat carrier opening and gently coax her to move into the carrier. Coax her with a little force, if necessary. But since Fred had dumped her out, she’d apparently decided the pyramid wasn’t safe, and so she’d taken to hiding under the desk or the bed or the dresser, but not anywhere where she could be cornered. We tried to coax her back into the pyramid, but she wasn’t having it, so I decided to take her food away, put the carrier in the room, put some food in the back of the carrier, and hope she’d decide that was a good place to be. At bedtime, she was still hiding under the bed and my general plan for catching her on Monday was to put on heavy clothes and heavy gloves, and just basically chase her around the room until I caught her HA HA HA AS IF.
Fred looked in the guest bedroom before he left for work yesterday morning, but Splash was still hiding under the bed. By the time I got up an hour later, she’d decided to move into the pyramid, which I hoped would make it easier to put her in the carrier. When her owner called to let me know she’d be on her way soon, I went into the guest bedroom, put a heavy denim shirt over the sweatshirt I was wearing and put on some heavy gloves because I absolutely knew that she was going to escape from the pyramid and I was going to have to grab her and I didn’t want to have my hand shredded in the process. So I held the carrier up to the pyramid, pulled the little cushion she was hiding under out of the way, and she looked up at me and casually moseyed into the carrier and settled in with no problems at all.
Giving Mister Boogers and his hetred a run for his money.
2. Upon reading the email instructions for returning the coverlet to JC Penny, I saw that after affixing the label to the package, I was to drop it off at a UPS store to be sent back to JC Penny. This made me SO MAD because I wasn’t the one who messedd this up and I didn’t think I should have to drive to a drop off center (did I mention that there’s recently been some irrational anger in my life the past few days?) and I couldn’t schedule a UPS pickup without a UPS account of my own EVEN IF IT WAS TO BE BILLED TO THE RECIPIENT OF THE PACKAGE and even after I signed up for a UPS account, I couldn’t schedule a UPS pickup without the recipient’s account number, which did not appear to be anywhere on the label. I’d finally given up and accepted that I was going to have to drive the package to the UPS dropoff center when the doorbell rang. I went to the door to find a package left for me by UPS. And the UPS man hadn’t crossed the street to his truck yet, due to traffic, and I was able to wave him down and give him the package with the coverlet in it, and I was (briefly) happy. ‘Til my internet went down and I dove into that Pool o’ Irrational Anger.
The irrational anger might be gone. But it might not. I advise you not to tick me off and find out, if you know what’s good for you.
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Momma Kitty and the babies continue to do just fine. I spent a lot of time in there yesterday afternoon and got to see the whole nursing process from beginning to end (ie, the part where the babies are done nursing and fall asleep with nipples in their mouths. Too seriously cute.). The gray tabby started jerking and shaking and I was freaking out trying to figure out what was wrong, when I realized she was hiccuping.
I think they’ve all lost their umbilical cords, which is not as gross as it sounds. The dried up umbilical cords look exactly like dried-up stalks off a plant and if I hadn’t found them in the box where the kittens are, I probably would have thought that’s what they were.
Time for an after-nursing nap.
Pile o’ monkehs.
“Momma! We is HUNGREE.”
(Over to the right) “This is not a nipple! This is a TOE!”
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Joe Bob in the daffodils, where you cannot see him. No you can’t. No you can’t. NO. YOU CANNOT.
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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.