Archive for Rescue Ramblings and Misc. Furry Foolishness

It’s Me or the … Kitten???

August 31, 2010 at 1:56 am · Filed under Gripes & Grumpings, Rescue Ramblings and Misc. Furry Foolishness, iHurt

In the time it took me to recognize the frantic blob circling the sidewalk ahead of me as a tiny little animal, a pleasant Saturday evening turned into a melodramatic butting of heads, and tonight I have a half-empty bottle of wine and a bag of chocolates to show for it. It was my gay boyfriend’s prescription for the night, and I for one was not about to argue.

Leave it to me to find a newly-abandoned kitten at the local park just before a storm and wind up in a standoff with the new dude over it. It is as I texted the Psych Spectacular: “Abandoned kitten in rain vs my boyfriend. No one won, really … but I can tell you which one came home with me that night.”

Because I will not compromise my morals for someone else. And I shouldn’t have to. I stand behind my decision 200%. And, as I told him tonight while I spelled out exactly what I will and will not stand for, it WILL happen again. Hell, I scooped up a turtle out of the road yesterday morning on my way to work, and dropped its hissing, ungrateful self in the woods where it belonged so it wouldn’t be hit by the morning traffic. You want to complain about and feel threatened by that, too?

This is who I am. Get over it or get gone. In the meantime, someone needs a name.

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Two Dollar Cuteness

August 17, 2010 at 12:40 pm · Filed under Happy-Type Stuff, Rescue Ramblings and Misc. Furry Foolishness, The Brindle Brothers & Co.

“I wish you could have seen the look on your face when you saw them,” my coworker laughed as we wrapped up a clinic on Sunday. “There was no way you were walking out of here without one of them. Your whole face lit up.”

It’s been a while since my last pair of rats passed away, and the space on the dresser has been a little too empty lately. I donated the cage to the shelter months ago, but recently found myself checking Petfinder again in search of another needy pair. And then I happened upon these two—at just four weeks old and friendly as could be, they were marked as snake food and going for the grand total of a dollar each. And that was that.

Such patience

He likes them so much more when they're not perched on his head.

Louis makes a fun playground, too.

Getting down on their level.

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Napoleon and his cat

August 13, 2010 at 7:33 pm · Filed under Happy-Type Stuff, Rescue Ramblings and Misc. Furry Foolishness, The Brindle Brothers & Co.

Just a quick bit of cuteness to share. Earlier this week, Kate (aka Mama Cat) slipped out the back door with the dogs and disappeared. And I do mean disappeared. As in, vanished. No one had seen her—not my family, not my neighbors, not animal control. I was pulling my hair out looking for her—signs were up, ads were posted online, food was out, the woods had been scoured, and I had even (reluctantly) checked the side of the road behind our house in case she’d been hit by a car. Nothing.

Last night, I was about at my wit’s end. Midnight came and went, but despite having taken several happy pills, I was still too keyed up to sleep. I went outside a few times every hour to call for Kate to no avail. It was pointless and I knew it, but it felt better than doing nothing. Even Napoleon, usually the epitome of calm and not one given to anxiety, was pacing relentlessly and refused to settle down. I finally couldn’t stand it anymore and selfishly put him outside just so I wouldn’t have to look at him—I knew why he was upset and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I already felt bad enough about losing the cat, and it wasn’t helping to see my super-chill, nerves-of-steel dog wearing holes in the floor because of it (while Nemo is decidedly Louis’ cat, Kate has always been Napoleon’s buddy).

Around 1:30am, I finally decided to turn out the lights in an effort to tempt the sandman with darkness, and called Napoleon back inside. He took his sweet time coming to the door … and I had to do a double-take when he finally got there, because trailing behind him was a very dirty, very hungry little Katie-bug.

The little goober went out and got his cat. With his mission accomplished and his kitty safe and sound where she belonged (that is, next to him), he hopped up on the bed, curled up and went right to sleep. Someone is getting extra treats tonight, that’s for sure…

Back where she belongs

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Well, look who grew up

August 11, 2010 at 5:22 pm · Filed under Rescue Ramblings and Misc. Furry Foolishness

And yet, they’re STILL here … le sigh.

I am somewhere between a dying laptop, a botched root canal sans pain meds, a gimpy Presa who needs x-rays (hi, Louis), a new potential adopter for Ivan, and a former foster dog getting returned in the next few weeks. I am beat, and short on both time and temper at the moment (see aforementioned lack of pain meds).

But, I finally picked up the foster kittens over the weekend from their babysitter—and they’re huge! And Nemo is no longer the black and white moo-cow kitten he was when I left—the boy is a stripey little booger now.

Bagheera

Bernard

And the Nemo-meister himself

So, who wants a kitten?

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More wisdom from the dorms, of another nature

July 2, 2010 at 2:41 pm · Filed under Gripes & Grumpings, Rescue Ramblings and Misc. Furry Foolishness

Oh.My.God.

Someone just tried to tell me that her rat terrier with a luxating patella actually only holds her leg up when she runs because that’s the leg that the family’s last dog was missing (the last dog having been hit by a car, just like the two before him), and that her current dog just misses the old one so much she tries to be like him by running on three legs.

Um, okay then.

She then went onto show me pictures of her 25 cats and every single one of the 50+ litters that have ever been born in her yard, not counting the three she just found out about today. She added that it is the neighbor’s male cat that gets all of her cats pregnant and that they have tried to shoot him and all, so it’s not their fault that their cats keep getting pregnant.

And then my friend rescued me from her clutches before my head exploded from the ignorance.

Because? Oh.My.God. TWENTY-FIVE CATS. SPAWNING IN HER YARD. ALL YEAR ROUND. AND IT’S “NOT HER FAULT.”

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The Risk You Take

May 25, 2010 at 11:13 pm · Filed under Rescue Ramblings and Misc. Furry Foolishness, iHurt ·Tagged

“Inky, no offense … but just grow a pair and do it.”

We were sharing dinner and drinks with the Brindle Brothers in East Atlanta. No offense was taken—he was right, you know.

And tonight, my father’s rage brought my mother and me together, both of us equal targets for his anger. The conversation somehow turned to the near-attack on my coworker by my foster puppy.

“What are your options, then?” she asked, when I told her I had taken the pup off the adoption list.

I burst into tears halfway through “I don’t know.” Because really, I did know. She did, too.

“It’s understandable. You’ve done everything you can. You’ve given her a good, happy home. There’s no way to know how the genetics will play out when they’re puppies.”

“But it’s not just me I’m hurting,” I cried. “It’s everyone else, because she’s been part of the family since September and everyone else is attached to her, too. And now I have to hurt everyone else to do the right thing. It fucking sucks. It’s fucking stupid.”

She didn’t challenge me on my liberal use of the F word, despite my Southern Baptist background. She just agreed – it is stupid.

“Sweetheart, we’re all adults here. We know the risks. We’ve been in this since your dad brought home your first foster dog however many years ago. It’s the risk you take.”

She offered to go with me. Barring that, she suggested I buy myself a few beers and pass out in my room – and this from a teetotaler married to the son of an alcoholic. She knew better than to touch me to offer comfort, but said she was sorry enough times that I got the point. She didn’t blame me. I do, nonetheless.

I called Dr. Awesome … and burst into tears again halfway through my request.

“It’s okay, boo. And I know that, coming from you, it has to be the right decision,” he added, knowing I was second-guessing myself even as we talked. “It’s okay. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

I hung up the phone and hung my head, in tears … again, dammit. The date was set. She wouldn’t be tormented for much longer.

And in a broken mess, I texted the Psych Spectacular. She called shortly after, and I fell into a rambling puddle of hurt. She set aside a time for me to see her this week if I wanted to (no pressure, she added). And in the face of the upcoming decisions, I do. Despite all the shit that has gone down lately, I really, really do.

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Elsie versus Georgia red clay

May 19, 2010 at 1:47 pm · Filed under Picture Play, Rescue Ramblings and Misc. Furry Foolishness

The main reason the deceptively cute little lunatic hasn’t been featured lately is because she is currently competing with her rope toy to see which one can become the dirtiest and at the moment, she looks like this:

My dogs are house dogs, I swear.

(In her defense, Ivan the Great has taken to slamming her through the mud under the deck every time they go outside, and the two of them wallow around under there like a couple of hogs until I come back to let them inside). In other pointless pit bull news, she is absolutely obsessed with her rope toy—or what’s left of it.

Soooo happy.

It's like a puppy pacifier - she takes it EVERYWHERE

Hey look, she even glows orange right now

So yeah. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I have a dog (or four) to bathe.

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On melty hearts, and kitten cuteness

May 10, 2010 at 11:29 pm · Filed under Happy-Type Stuff, Picture Play, Rescue Ramblings and Misc. Furry Foolishness, The Brindle Brothers & Co. ·Tagged , , , ,

Stereotypes defied. (Click for a better view).

Seeing how content he is now, I actually feel guilty that I didn’t get him a kitty before now.

The tabby kitten is no longer here, unfortunately. But the other three are growing into little roly-poly messes of motor-mouths and purrs, while Miss Mama Cat keeps the dogs in check (I walked in this afternoon and they were both asleep on the floor while she kept the WHOLE bed to herself, the bratty little thing). Gotta love it.

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The Rescue-Turned-Family-Reunion

April 21, 2010 at 2:41 pm · Filed under Happy-Type Stuff, Rescue Ramblings and Misc. Furry Foolishness

I’ve said before that I believe things happen for a reason, even when they suck, and I mean it when I say that timing is everything. But this is taking even me a few minutes to wrap my head around.

We commented yesterday about how quickly the cat in the adoption section took to the orphaned kittens; she walked over to the carrier, sniffed once, and clambered inside to begin nursing and cleaning the kittens. It was the easiest introduction any of us had ever seen, and we joked that hey, maybe they were hers. Yes, well.

I went back this morning to work with an unruly black lab pup who hadn’t yet learned his manners, and while I was there, just for kicks, we pulled the paperwork for the kittens to compare it to that of the mama.

Cue the Twilight Zone music, because they were all picked up from the same street, just a few houses apart. No wonder the cat’s so happy now—she finally got her family back!

What were the odds? I mean, seriously, what were the odds? Of me being there to delay the death sentence when the kittens were brought in by the sobbing good Samaritan who had been bottlefeeding them. Of a cranky-ass stray cat still being alive at the shelter when her kittens were turned in four days later. Of us deciding on a whim to see—just see—what the grouch of a cat would do. Of … well, any of it, really. What were the odds?

Um, yeah. It may or may not have given me chills … oh, and this post would be useless without these:

The only one opening his eyes so far.

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Basic Addition, Animal Control Style

April 20, 2010 at 7:49 pm · Filed under Happy-Type Stuff, Rescue Ramblings and Misc. Furry Foolishness

It’s a simple equation, really.

1 lactating cat with a bad attitude and two days left to find a home + 4 orphaned kittens with umbilical cords still attached and an automatic death sentence = I am truly a lost cause.

It’s been a long time coming, if I think about it. Louis has been desperately trying to entice every neighborhood cat that we see on our walks to come and play. I recently got a bug up my butt to bleach the hell out of everything for the umpteenth time down in the dungeon. My gut told me to “go home” to the shelter this morning, and is also telling me that no matter how seemingly ill-advised with the tentative possibility of travel this summer, it will work out. And I trust it.

So I built a nursery (isn’t it spiffy??), gathered the supplies, and Louis is laying guard beside the new family as I write this while the adoptive mother (who is much nicer now that she has babies to care for) takes a snack break.

And so it begins again.

Louis checking on the new arrivals

Checking out her new digs

Contentment

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