Samba and Rumba will be staying ’til they’re ready to go to the pet store. Their previous foster mother and I decided that it’d be best for them to just stay here instead of being uprooted and going back to their previous home.
I stopped medicating Samba (last night was her last dose of medicine), because she sounds all clear. I’ll give her through the weekend just in case she feels like relapsing (something that’s never happened in all the time I’ve had foster kittens, but still something I worry about), then as long as she sounds okay, I’ll make an appointment to have them spayed and id chipped.
Rumba is the friendlier of the two kittens, but I’ve actually been able to pet Samba several times too. They have to be in the mood to be petted, though. I can lure them close to me using a toy, but if they don’t feel like being petted, off they scamper when I reach out to them.
They are SO SWEET, have I mentioned?
As she reached for the slot machine arm, Samba sent a prayer to the Big Cat in the Sky.
“Please, Big Cat,” she whispered. “Samba needs a new pair of shoes.” Except that cats don’t wear shoes. Samba secretly wanted to win a ton of dough so she could blow it all on catnip toys. She suspected that the Big Cat in the Sky wouldn’t approve.
Samba kissed the slot machine arm for luck, then gave a mighty pull. Rumba sent a prayer to the Big Cat in the Sky. “All Sevens!” she whispered. “All Sevens!”
Upon realizing she’d once again gambled away the food money for the week, Samba frantically pulled the slot machine arm again and again, to no avail.
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Previously
2008: Yes, he is a good dog. No, we’re still not keeping him.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.