The kittens are doing well – they’re still little wild things when it comes to medicating them, but we’ve established a rhythm wherein Fred chases them down, picks them up by the nape of the neck, we wrap a small towel around them (to protect me from flailing claws), I squirt the medicine in their mouth, and then we put them down and let them run away, which they do while hissing the entire time.
Poor monkeys.
They forgive easily – at least Tina Louise does, since I have yet to get my hands on any of the other kittens. Yesterday I took a nap in the kitten room with them (a catnap, of course) and when I woke up, Maryanne was sitting about two feet away staring at me with hatred.
It’s a start.
That’s a very Mister Boogers look on her face.
i has a taste
“Dude. Seriously. All the freakin’ time with the DANCING. And not only dancing, but DISCO dancing. It’s no wonder I run around hissing all the time. ‘Left the cake out in the rain and now I’ll never have the recipe again’, my tail.”
“I yam a bird and I yam gonna fly! Cowabungaaaaaaaaaa!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Previously
2006: No entry.
2005: I’m surprised I haven’t had a stroke yet.