Holy CRAP! I never told you guys about the new kitten!
Ok...So, post the Great Catsby episode, we decided it was time for another cat. Ok... So it was a week later, but it was just that time. We needed to fill that empty "kitten void". So I set out on the quest again. Now we were more wary of what to look for.
No more:
kittens under 10 weeks.
kittens with hidden problems.
kittens with no life or action.
kittens small enough to fit in a taco shell.
So I began my pussy hunt. I started at one animal shelter which told me the real story about the broods of cats that were dropped off where we got The Great Catsby. There were never 63, but a mere 20. See the last blog post. So heartache now comes from someone seeking fame.
Anyway... This is supposed to be the fun celebratory post.
So I went to the New Rochelle Animal Shelter. They have a room full of cats but only a crate of 3 kittens ready to go. Oddly, it was closing so all those fighting for kittens had to call off the battle for the day.
I admit, the kittens were cute, as you can see in the pics, but still, I wasn't about to settle for the first shelter I'd been too. So the next day, I decided to venture out yet again.
This time, I went to Yonkers Animal Shelter. Everyone says it's such a great place to adopt so I thought I'd give it a shot.
The place had a room full of cats and a transitionally cat door where some of the more free roaming cats were able to transfer from inside to the cage room from an outside pen.
The reason I have so many pictures on these excursions is that the roommate, Webkittyn, isn't there with me so she sort of Tele-shops for kittens. Unfortunately, kittens make terrible models and don't hold still. This is also how I seem to end up with hundreds of versions of cat media and film.
OK...so... I'm surrounded by caged felines. In one, there's another trio of captive kittens about 7 or 8 weeks old which they say could be adopted out. On the other side is this lanky panther coated one they tell me is 10 weeks old. These people aren't the greatest professionals, but they try. I'll get into that later.
So both kittens love being held and are quite calm when in hand. They like people. The like to be held. I first held the small kitten. He was a cute little fluffball and had two sisters with him. He purred and snuggled to show me he was healthy, but I was unsure. So I looked at the older cat in the other cage. He was also equally happy to be in my arms and out of the cage. He had a LOUD purr and I noticed that both liked to all over you....until.....
When I put them back in the cage, this one went nuts wanting to come out and be with me.
So after much deliberation and allot of picture mail, Webkittyn vicariously voted for the elder of the two but not without trepidation.
Templeton took this this one nearly immediately. There was no "I smell dead kitties...all the time" with him. Within two days they've been frolicking about together, although we did put him in that huge dog cage overnight the first night... Completely forgetting the howling he did in the video.
Either way... The Vet says he'll be a Hellion. He's an odd bugger. You stare into his face and you see some old dead soul locked in there. He's rather smart for his age. We are projecting he's actually about 16 weeks old.
Now when most people look at him they see this :
.
Deathsquad thought he looked rather thuggish as far as cats go. I tend to agree with him. You see I look at him and sometimes see this :
and sometimes I see this:
or even this :
....and on some really odd days, I see this:
You tell me.
Either way, it's been three weeks so far and everything is perfect...save for the kitty cold he has that he gave Templeton... but it's smooth sailing from here.
Holy CRAP! I never told you guys about the new kitten!
Ok...So, post the Great Catsby episode, we decided it was time for another cat. Ok... So it was a week later, but it was just that time. We needed to fill that empty "kitten void". So I set out on the quest again. Now we were more wary of what to look for.
No more:
kittens under 10 weeks.
kittens with hidden problems.
kittens with no life or action.
kittens small enough to fit in a taco shell.
So I began my pussy hunt. I started at one animal shelter which told me the real story about the broods of cats that were dropped off where we got The Great Catsby. There were never 63, but a mere 20. See the last blog post. So heartache now comes from someone seeking fame.
Anyway... This is supposed to be the fun celebratory post.
So I went to the New Rochelle Animal Shelter. They have a room full of cats but only a crate of 3 kittens ready to go. Oddly, it was closing so all those fighting for kittens had to call off the battle for the day.
I admit, the kittens were cute, as you can see in the pics, but still, I wasn't about to settle for the first shelter I'd been too. So the next day, I decided to venture out yet again.
This time, I went to Yonkers Animal Shelter. Everyone says it's such a great place to adopt so I thought I'd give it a shot.
The place had a room full of cats and a transitionally cat door where some of the more free roaming cats were able to transfer from inside to the cage room from an outside pen.
The reason I have so many pictures on these excursions is that the roommate, Webkittyn, isn't there with me so she sort of Tele-shops for kittens. Unfortunately, kittens make terrible models and don't hold still. This is also how I seem to end up with hundreds of versions of cat media and film.
OK...so... I'm surrounded by caged felines. In one, there's another trio of captive kittens about 7 or 8 weeks old which they say could be adopted out. On the other side is this lanky panther coated one they tell me is 10 weeks old. These people aren't the greatest professionals, but they try. I'll get into that later.
So both kittens love being held and are quite calm when in hand. They like people. The like to be held. I first held the small kitten. He was a cute little fluffball and had two sisters with him. He purred and snuggled to show me he was healthy, but I was unsure. So I looked at the older cat in the other cage. He was also equally happy to be in my arms and out of the cage. He had a LOUD purr and I noticed that both liked to all over you....until.....
When I put them back in the cage, this one went nuts wanting to come out and be with me.
So after much deliberation and allot of picture mail, Webkittyn vicariously voted for the elder of the two but not without trepidation.
Templeton took this this one nearly immediately. There was no "I smell dead kitties...all the time" with him. Within two days they've been frolicking about together, although we did put him in that huge dog cage overnight the first night... Completely forgetting the howling he did in the video.
Either way... The Vet says he'll be a Hellion. He's an odd bugger. You stare into his face and you see some old dead soul locked in there. He's rather smart for his age. We are projecting he's actually about 16 weeks old.
Now when most people look at him they see this :
.
Deathsquad thought he looked rather thuggish as far as cats go. I tend to agree with him. You see I look at him and sometimes see this :
and sometimes I see this:
or even this :
....and on some really odd days, I see this:
You tell me.
Either way, it's been three weeks so far and everything is perfect...save for the kitty cold he has that he gave Templeton... but it's smooth sailing from here.
On the August 13th, I went to the Mount Vernon Center for Animal Control to pick out and rescue a kitten. The kittens were dropped off on the doorstep of MVCAC. 63 of them actually. They were dog bait for a dog fighting ring.
So I went there with the greatest of intentions... To rescue a wee beasty from a horrible life. When I first looked in the cage, there were about 1 dozen left. 1 was sickly and needed meds and sat in a cage alone. Two other kittens, about 3 weeks old lay alone seemingly on the brink of death, segregated from the rest.
Now I stared into the cage. See in the picture above how things are situated? There's a pile of happy sleeping cats to the left. To the right, in what appears to be a litter pan in shredded newspaper is this lonely kitten. He had such soulful blue eyes, they looked to me as if he was an oracle of sorts. I asked to see him.
He was docile and rather well mannered. This endeared me. I did look at another larger older kitten, but for some reason I was drawn to this one. The way he was away from the others in the litter made me think that he'd be perfect to fit into the role of the name that Webkittyn had thought of for him... "The Great Catsby". You see, in the movie, Gatsby was a loner type of philanthropist. When he had parties, he never attended them... He just simply watched from afar in a secluded upstairs room. Most had never seen his face and that made him rather enigmatic. Similar to the way that Gatsby stayed aloof and away from the pack was how I saw Catsby.
Paula Young (not pictured) is the Director of the MVCAC. She asked me if I could financially handle keeping this cat. I told her that she could not fathom the ridiculous amounts of money I spend on these four legged children of Bast. She gave him a booster shot. She charged me $40 and sent myself and this new Kitten home. My biggest fault was that she never sent this 6 week old kitten to a foster home rather than putting him up on the block for adoption.
So I took the kitten home. Oddly... Like in the shelters cage, no cats in the house had any interest in knowing this cat. We just thought it would take awhile for assimilation.
With this kitten, being so small, we were afraid of it going into places it shouldn't and getting stuck at night, so during sleep time, we put the kitten in a cage large enough to house an Akita. This idea came to us after spending the night awake waiting to take it to the Vet for a clean bill of health.
The Vet? About $290... You'll need to keep that figure for the end of the story. The kitten himself seems to have minor issues, like vomiting water or food and diarrhea which we thought came as side effects of de-worming.
Days go by and we're like cooing idiots. Everything he does, WHEN he does something is cute. He loves to be near people... Especially Webkittyns crotch. I have no idea why. I think he either wants to return to a womb or it's just a warm place to be as she likes to sit Indian style.
When it comes to me, he would come up to me and either look up as a dog would beg or try to climb my leg to get held or sit on my lap. He seemed to be dependent on human body heat. Whenever I laid on the floor, he either laid with me or on me somewhere. He wasn't much for sitting alone. Either way, he was too cute for words.
We are oblivious to the signs that are being given here.
Day seven of kitten down. He'd been with us a week. It's 9 something at night and he starts acting funny. First he starts wandering to places he's never been too and sitting on a piece of newspaper. When shooed back, he turns about to sit on it again. We figure he needs to go to the box.
After putting him in the box, he crawls out and literally slithers along the floor. I notice crap coming out of his ass involuntarily. I place him back in the box and he collapses prostrate in the box with his eyes wide open and a piece of wheat litter is on his eye and he's not even phased by it.
After pulling him from the box, I place him on a pile of pillows, which he tumbles off of into a dead weight heap on the floor. We decide that I should drive to the Veterinary Emergency Group...an ER For pets.
They told us that Catsby was suffering from FKS (Fading Kitten Syndrome). Like SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome) in children, FKS stems from when a kitten, obviously stripped from his mother, never gains the immunity in his liver from the mothers milk. They also tend to have extremely low body temperature, body weight and blood sugar as a result.
Now the V.E.G. did great work. They had him up and about and looking bright with his I.V. sticking out of his foreleg when I went to transfer him at 7:30.
Now, as this video attests, he was looking in good spirits. The issue was he couldn't be off fluids for the three hours between the 7 am time the ER closes and the time our vet opens at 10 am. You see, each hospital is open from 7-7 respectively. So you have to transfer from one to another between day and night. Subsequently that adds up to 2 different admissions and hospitalization fees. The second closest place that is open daytimes is Bond Animal hospital down and around the block. Now judging from the credentials of the Bond Vets and the $180,000 Mercedes sitting in the back lot, this place ain't cheap. But that's ok. Anything for the Great Catsby.
I was taking Templeton to the vet for his annual shots and checkup and I got the call at 12:30 that he died at Bond.
Note to self... Expensive high tech Vets like Bond aren't worth the money. They never put him on fluids as the V.E.G. had done and required that he be on almost non stop.
So...now he's dead and we're upset. I won't even bring up the $500 Emergency room bill or the overpriced gouged $490 bill. I went over the second post death bill with a fine tooth comb, found I was being overcharged on the cremation arrangements which I had corrected to the point that I got an additional credit for the kittens oxygen. (why do we PAY for air?). So in all everything from start to finish this tiny kitten cost me $1250 for one tiny malnourished cat...
...and a whole lotta heartache.
There's doubt.
There's questions.
There's wonderment on our part as to whether this could have been prevented.
There's even more doubt to the existence or intent of any sort of benevolent god who would do such a thing to an innocent creature.
There are memories for such a short time.
There's sorrow.
The more people I talk to, the more I think I understand why neither Bey nor Templeton would go near him. They were actually afraid of him... Like they could smell that he was the rotten banana in the bunch. People tell me that cats can smell death. I'll know this from now on. Neither cat would even lick this kitten.
I think my biggest beef is that this could have been prevented from the start. Paula Young and the MVCAC should never have let this cat been put up for adoption. Rather it should have been in foster care until it reached 10 weeks and beyond. Had this been done, as they do have the resources for foster care, none of this would have happened and no one would have been put through this emotional and financial rollercoaster.
I'd like to thank those who left kind words at Webkittyn Warbles and also those who donated to try and make this tragedy a bit more bearable.
Upon further investigation, insiders from another animal shelter told me that the number of 63 was exaggerated and that 63 stray cats could not have been processed, inoculated and distributed to foster homes in such a short time. The original count was actually 20 and she was just whoring it up for the newspapers to gain a few minutes of fake hero fame.
Needless to say, Paula Young shall now reap the wrath of the Darkstar.
The other night I covered myself under the blankets and let some of springs brisk air creep in through the make shift cat door I made for Bey.Now remember our cast of characters as we go along. This is Bey. He's my cat. He's indoor/outdoor . I made his cat door from cardboard and black duct tape where normally an air conditioner expansion would be.
So I'm snuggling in. Bey bolts in through the window cat door as he usually does. I hear him off in the kitchen crunching some dry food and then I hear something I'd never noticed before at night. He was... Playing. It seemed he was playing with some of the cat toys. I was elated that Mister Tomcat was actually indoors playing with cat toys. With that, I smiled and drifted off to slumberland.
I get up the next day... Lumbering from the bed bleary eyed, I make my way to grap a paper plate and a can of Fancy Feast. I'm having a sleepwalking moment. I continue to dress and go of to work. Nothing alarming
yet... so off to work I go.
I come home the next day. I listen to the meow of the hungry beast. I bend down to get his can of food. Still oblivious, I go off to plate it, feed him and go on about my business.
After I change my clothes, hit send and receive on my email, I decide to go to the Tassimo and make myself a double cup of Joe. Then I look down an think to myself... "I know I should've mopped the kitchen this weekend, but where did all these dust bunnies come from. Then I notices those aren't dust bunnies....
They're feathers. As I look over to the right I see a peach and gray colored dove, natures beauty pageant queen of the pigeon world, expired on the kitchen floor.
That's when it hit me as to what I heard him batting around the night before. He had been playing kitchen hockey with a corpse all the night before and I wasn't noticing it until now.
This was when the screaming started."WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?!?!!?"
Now mind you, he ate and left. I'm running around ranting about the dead bird on the floor, sending out ICQs about this horror show...and yet all I can think of is Eddie Murphy and that old routine he did about the dead bird.
"Dead biiirrrrrrd...DEEEEAAAAD BIIIIRRD!!! I'm gonna put it on you...Put it ON YOU!!! AAAAAUUUGHH!!!"
Gee. Pets are fun. This sure does beat the mouse he hadn't finished yet killing that he was batting around on my bedroom floor.
Here he is again... The ever playful Templeton...aint he a cutey? Then how is it, I left for 2 days in the studio I find that this sweet affectionate feline has a Tasmanian Devil alter ego that only comes out at night and does this:
It had been 2 weeks since the surgery and he'd just gotten too blasted demanding in his couped up state away from Templeton. He was stir crazy and itching to go out so after seing that there was absolutely NO open wounds and the hair was growing back, I opened his cat door... and... he... stared at it. LIke he didn't know what to do.
Finally he got it into his head that he was being freed. In my head, all I could think of was how I was letting a newly valued $1500 worth of cat walk out the door...like it was never coming back. I guess that "set free what you love" addage really works.
As you can see here, the fur is growing in...and although his top two nipples are now 3/4 an inch apart, he seems in good spirits and enjoys belly rubs again.
Well...he's back and stitched up and pissed. Well, maybe not so much pissed. More like antsy. He can't go out for the next 10 days or so because we won't let him, so he gets either bored or lonely. That and we won't let him interact with Templeton because we don't need the blood and hair clumps from a possible fight. They don't play well together when in the same room.
He's overly affectionate when I'm in the room and won't leave me be. After reading the post by Fatamorgana on the perils of smoking around pets at the Dark Forums, I think I'm completely stopping smoking in my bedroom with him around. It may be what caused the growths, so I'm not taking anymore chances.
He seems to be dealing well with the surgery. He's good with the stitches so far, so I see no reason for the Elizabethan collar (that cone thing you put on pets) and he seems rather spry and more agile daily. The docs did a thorough job getting the strip of growths out. Wednesday we should have biopsy results.
We'll keep you posted. Here's a few more shots of Frankenfeline:
First I'd like to thank all the well wishers out there. Those I've never corresponded with before, it's a pleasure to know you and I have linked you all in my blogroll.
It's somewhat happy here in the land of Darkness. I brought Bey home and he's resting either on my bed or hopefully on the new wicker Beytard throne or "Beycave (click to view)" that the wondrous Mango got for Bey! That is one classy dude! Thanks, great Mango Radio guru!
So my birthday week cost us $2000 total in unexpected bills. But Y'know what's great? All the people who are showing support via donations of anything from money to gifts for Bey. I don't care, because Bey is back and although his meow is more like a Chocobo's wark, his stomach is bruised, his nipples are now a half inch apart and he's got 10 stitches in him... I'm glad he's home and actually showing a little spring in his step. I thank all his well-wishers and I'm sure he'll be blogging about his ordeal soon.
Y'know, as much as I preach about being ones own superhero, that's still not without it's drawbacks. I suppose the test of my worth to being a prophet or a magus is truly being tested. I'm not saying that everyone reading this will understand what I'm talking about, but I think I'm being tested by forces far older and greater than we for a job that is far greater than most of us can fathom.
Anyway...Saturday, I took Bey to the vet because I found lumps on his chest. 3...maybe 4, I'm not entirely sure.. It appeared they came along and said "hello" quite literally overnight. One under his nipple the diameter of a quarter, another under that the size of a pea and another quarter sized one after that. These popped up in one to two days. After $300 in tests, they don't know what it is, but they believe it to be cancer. Great news, eh? Top that off with the car air conditioner dying systematically where that was another $800 bill for fan, compressor and freon and Bey being scheduled for Thurdsay surgery, this is becoming a pricey week. Especially since after looking over pet records, operations have been between $300 and $500.
However...how could I let this fuzzy face down? He needs me so.
So that's like what? Possibly $1700 in a week? Oh...did I forget to mention it's my birthday tomorrow? This sure does beat when I went to jail and had to spend $700 in bail money on my birthday. So some time during my birthday, I have to drop off my cat to be gutted like a pig for what may appear to be a twisted version of kitty liposuction. Yet we still don't know what these masses are. They are attached to the skin, not the muscle tissue so hopefully its a skin condition, however the vets tell me it could be breast cancer as the masses are but free floating as in not stuck to muscle tissue. Either way it must come out.
Webkittyn has been great trying to get me to be at ease about this, but after Claude passing from a cancer operation just before her birthday, it just strikes a little too much like lightning hitting twice.
And so I roll with it. I just can't help feeling that every time I hug him, it's for the last time... Happy Birthday to me, huh?
Our cat, Claude Le Mew (a parody of hockey player Claude Lemeiux) went in for surgery at 12pm today. He was our very first cat. He was 11 years old. He's had 3 prior surgeries I believe, over the years for growths. The vet called at about 6 to tell us that this latest cancer surgery was successful...but 15 minutes out of surgery, he suffered cardiac arrest and passed into the darkness.
I never thought I'd be so broken up over it but FUCK I miss him. Although he was more Webkittyns cat than mine, I remember the day I met him...His name was "Cheeks" then. I brought him home from a Forgotten Felines adoption day. I cut out of work without permission to go get him. SHIT I can't stop crying as I type this. I remember how he ran under the bed and hid from us... I remember when he used to sleep in between my legs at night... I remember when we declawed him...
Before Bey came along, he'd dance on my back when I was asleep when he wanted something. I SO wished the two of them got aong. I just wanted all three to be some mongolian cluster of cats.
And I never even finished part II of his blog story.
I was watching him frolic and play with Templton just this morning...who the fuck knew?!?!? He was healthy...even GAINED another couple of ounces... I never expected a call like this.
Claudie... I love you man....I'm really gonna miss you.
My cat Bey, aka "Googeliebear" has just about perfected our "Stupid Pet Trick". He has learned to basically stand on my shoulder while I walk... like a Pirates Parrot. "Aaaaaaaargh...ha haaaaaaaa..."
Now we'll go work for Fedex like the Pirate in the commercial.
*spoiler: this is nasty. Uneasy stomachs go play in the other categories.*
"Well it's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it! " "We care allot" by Faith no more
Ok... Umm... Now I know why I won't have kids anytime soon. Yesterday the housemate calls while I'm at work... You know, Webkittyn? Anyway, she tells me the kitten (who's name is still unofficial... I think Three is a good name as he's the 3rd cat we have in our lives) seems to have some odd growth in it's anus. Ok maybe not a growth... Let's just say it once and be done with it : A huge ball of shit stuck to its fur planted over his ass like a cork. There. I said it. Now there's nothing that can be thought of but extremely gross thoughts. WK called me telling me that she feels the kittens pain when he tries to "go" but his poo cork won't let him.
Fast forward to getting home from work. Upon entering and dropping some things brought in, there she is with this docile kitten with the desperate look on his puss. She proceeds to lift him up and says "lift the tail". Well lo and behold! BLIMEY! There's a big ball o' poo! It was horrid. We sat and plotted for a bit. My original thought of removing it with warm wet paper towels could in no way handle this travesty without help. Filling a wash basin with warm water, the plan we decided on was... Dunkin' Kitties.
Remember I said I rescued them from drowning? Needless to say, water is not this little boys best friend at the moment. He wasn't happy, but then again he has a peanut for a brain. He hissed, he writhed, he clawed at my latex surgical gloves.
We dunked him in. Held his little ass waist high in the water trying to get it to loosen what horrors lay below. He hissed, he cried, he meowed he whined. In the end (no pun intended) it was removed. In the final pull we decided to cut the last clump off as the pain on his little bum and balls was one step below intentional cruelty.
At least he seemed happier to have it gone. He was rather docile afterward. I expected him to run off immediately or run his wet lower half all over the living room. The best part was that he seemed full of loving gratitude as if we removed a burr from the lions paw.
Gee... I just hope he doesn't grow up one day and chose to tell someone that someone touched him when he was young. Is there a statute of limitations on anal poo removal? All in all, not a pleasant exercise to spend ones night doing.
Cats...*DING!* I'm a kitty cat...and I dance dance dance and I dance dance dance.
The kitten has doubled in size in the week or so since I brought him home for good. Although I'd love to name him "Sleep'N'Eat" from the movie "Bamboozled" to reflect his recent activities, we were thinking of Blog. However, the housemate thinks that he now looks more like the rat from Charlottes Web and wants to name him Templeton. I'd say Templeton the SIMPLETON. He's not very bright yet. Then again, he's got this little bout with rotational vestibulitus (sp). He tilts his head to the side and for awhile while he was beginning his medication, he would stumble about a bit. The condition (while my vets have no clue why he has this) is a form of warped vertigo dizziness that causes the cat to stumble 98% of the time and cannot walk without completely tumbling. Sometimes flat out onto its back. As if you decided to spin around like a top for 2 minutes then stopped.
At least now he's starting to act like a kitten and Claude cat is ok with him. They've been playing. He's actually rather sweet, has a loud purr, doesn't bite or claw so far, and is very fuzzy. He's beginning to grow in his colored stripes as fluffy gray tabby. Maybe as Claude gets better with another cat in the house, I can attempt to reintegrate Bey into being an indoor cat rather than just the midnight sleep buddy who dives through the window onto my stomache at 4 am, knocking me windless.
Yea, I know... What the hell does this have to do with Project Epica or Darkstar or the music or anything...
Well ya know, if you don't stop to pet a kitten or see the innocence of life, then why bother living it. Plus, how many occultists, light or dark survive without a familiar which is usually a cat?
So anyway... I'm up by the lick of cat (Bey that is) who does his usual slobber all over my head and give me sloppy kiss/head butts 'til I get up and feed him. There's a few things to be done... I'm already going into work late but I must do a quick vacuum for the new play area. Oh I didn't tell you? We spent last night making the livingroom into a bounce arena (bounce...Heh... Thanks, Fatamorgana for the advice. We'll get to the bouncing in a moment.). There's cardboard sealing off the 32" television land so there's no dusty cats sleeping with wires. Access to the dvd rack is now denied. Entrances to all backs of couches are secured and the hallway is cordoned off with a screen, the kitchen hall with a sheet. Yea... I said it... A sheet. It's stapled into the wall. Power stapled. Man tools... Uuurrgh!
A new box base of operations for them has been set up. Litterbox prepared. You'd think we were auditioning for SuperNanny. WK has had little sleep herself. Basically the plan was to limit the safe spots to a more orchestrated cordoning off.
10:17 am... I'm at the vets. A little bullshit and then the kits are in one of our carriers. Return to base, Panther Mobile.
10:35...arrive at destination. Take kits inside. Get food and water. Lay out screen blockade. Secure sheet. Release kittens. At first, there's not much resistance as before. The flee is a little less than before possibly from the other night. The problem girl actually nestled into Webkittyns lap for a moment while the boy ate. He likes to eat. I hear the girl won't eat. Were she human, she'd be the one who'd go out to dinner and say "I'll just have the salad".
MISS SCARLET!!! MISS SCARLET!! I don't know NOTHIN' 'bout raisin' no kittens!!
Ok...Here's the updates as we have them.
We were whacked so far with a HUGE ungodly vet bill (even WITH the 25% off 'Good Samaratan' discount). There's still some more boarding to pay...medication...etc. I really wonder if this was worth it to take them to a real vet and not to a no-kill shelter.
Anyway.... Yesterday I brought them home for 4 hours to try and see which was better to keep.
Now with that I must explain one of our new little friends. The gray and white, featured in the pictures, is a she-devil. She's quite shy. Yet once out of the box, she zooms like a photon torpedo to the first place that looks safe. The first night we brought them home, she found a way to get between a loveseat and an end table. Anyway...so I get her out and then in a squirm and a bite she was gone. Needless to say I was scratched and bit on the hand pretty bad. I then brought out the gloves (more on the gloves later). She jetted like the Flash around the room, up onto the loveseat like Spiderman then ran into the kitchen making a beeline for a very bad place...between the wall and the refrigerator.
I thought she broke her neck or impaled herself on the dispersion blades of exposed heating ducts. So I get the gloves...clean out shit we were so uselessly storing (who the hell needs a washboard these days? Bah! This stuff was there when we moved in). We tried to get her with a broom... No go. She played dead. Nearly freaked me out cause we're not used to small things. The dust was everywhere. So I reach in and try to slip my gloved hand under her butt. She goes up and then falls. Second attempt and I get her out. Holding tightly she realizes I'm now immune to her clawing. She calms a little. We put them in the blankets you see in the Webkittynwarbles.com blog. Then we return them to the box and Webkittyn sits and watches vigil overnight on a closed box.
Ok... The camera used here is a first generation Pocket PC camera, so it's about 480 pixels. Expect grain. These were taken on the scene the day of the rescue.
...and I have no bloody idea what to do with them!
I took pictures... They'll be up later. I was writing an entry into the blog (one of my long winded bloviated kind) and I kept hearing loud meows at my desk at work. I went out back and found cats swim/drowning in the back. I rescued them that Animal Rescue way by putting a piece of cloth they could claw into so I could pull the soggy buggers up.
Now as I put them in a box (they're drying off cuddled together on newspaper and latex blocks), I'm trying to figure out what to do with them before my day job closes.
I can't reach my housemate on either phone. I called my vet (not much help there, Paul) who told me to call an animal hospital but not the shelters because they kill kitties.
Now I need to send someone out to get them food. I just want them to stop shivering. They're scared and cold. Cute little grey and white looks like Webkittyn's cat, Claude, only Claude is black and white. The other one will barely look at me. He's kind of tri-colored grey/white/black.
I haven't saved the world yet... hopefully I can successfully save these two cats.
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