Once upon a time, Fred had a blog. Then he got busy between work and doing stuff around here, and he took it down because he just didn’t have anything to say. This weekend, he started it up again (there are no archives at the moment, but I’m trying to convince him to put some of his old stuff back up). You can see it here, if you’re interested. There’s a distinct lack of kitty pictures over there, though, be warned.
Saturday was 7 years since I got my very first batch of fosters, Mia and her babies. (Those posts start here, if you’re interested in seeing them.)
7 years, 174 fosters as of now. I guess I’d better get moving if I want to hit 200 by the end of the year, huh? (I don’t expect to hit 200 by the end of the year, honestly. But who knows? Three or four good-sized litters could do it!)
I finally called and made the appointment for the Noms to be spayed and neutered. They’re going on June 5th for that, and then they’ll go off to Petsmart when there’s room for them. I’m not sure how adoptions are going, so they might go straight off, or they might be here for a while longer, it’s hard to know.
I don’t expect them to be too terrified – new things scare them, but strangers do not scare them in the slightest (which is good!), so I think they’ll adjust quickly. I mean, not that they’ll be there all that long, because I’m sure they will be adopted just about immediately!
Tabby Noms on the stairs leading up to the bed in the guest bedroom.
All the Noms (Logie’s in a cat bed on the bed).
“What, lady? What you want?”
Logie’s been exploring, apparently.
Newbery keeping an eye on something (probably one of his sisters).
“We is having a meeting, and you is not invited. Do we need to call Security?”
I’m pretty sure that this…
…is Razzie, because Razzie has crinkled whiskers. I could be wrong, though.
This, however, is definitely Razzie. She was watching Fred flick Da Bird around the room.
“I’m in my basket.”
“That means you should go away and let me snooze.”
“::hissROWRRRRR::,” said Joe Bob.
“Yeah? Well, ::HISSSSSROWRRRRRR,::” said Maxi.
“I SAID ::HISSSROWRRRRR::, Madame!” said Joe Bob.
Maxi pondered that for a moment.
“Go away, boy,” she said. “You’re bothering me.”
“I get no respect,” said Joe Bob.
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Previously
2011: No entry.
2010: “I couldn’t help it! I just wanted a snuggle and some canned food! I AM NOT a big baby! Okay, maybe I am. But I had to register my complaint, didn’t I?!”
2009: Yeah, poor babies. It’s a rough life!
2008: I imagine that in the operating room, the surgeon’s going to say “Why is she covered in small cuts [I originally typo’d “small cats”. HA!] from head to toe?”
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.