I’m home from Maine, did ya miss me? I landed in Huntsville right on time, got my luggage, and met Fred in front of the terminal in short-term parking. We stopped to pick up sandwiches at Subway (if it wasn’t so close to dark, I probably could have convinced him to take me out to dinner, but WE MUST NOT ALLOW THE CHICKENS TO REMAIN AT LARGE AFTER DARK DUE TO POSSIBLE PREDATORS) for dinner, and then we were home.
The cats milled about while I put all my stuff away, and they climbed on the suitcase and my laptop bag and hissed and smacked at each other, the way they always do when something new is going on, but by the time we settled down to watch TV, the cats had decided there was nothing exciting going on, and life went back to normal.
I spent a good part of Tuesday running errands, cleaning the house, doing laundry. You know, all the fun stuff. I ran to the pet store to see if Elle and Skittles had been adopted yet. They hadn’t, although there were lots of empty cages that indicated the weekend had been a good adoption weekend. My foster kitties aren’t getting adopted but it appears other kitties are getting adopted just fine.
Wednesday – my birthday – I celebrated by having my teeth cleaned. Happy 40th birthday to me!
Friday I boxed Punki and Felicia up and took them to the pet store. Since Elle and Skittles hadn’t been adopted, when I asked the shelter manager if there was room for Punki and Felicia at the pet store, she said there was, but they’d have to share a cage with Elle and Skittles. The cage Elle and Skittles were in was a big one, but really too small for 4 8 month-old kittens. I asked Fred if he minded if I brought Elle and Skittles back home with me so they wouldn’t be stuck four in a cage, and he agreed pretty quickly.
Punki’s almost got the look o’ het down pat.
Punki and Felicia were less than thrilled at being left in a cage, and Elle and Skittles weren’t too thrilled about being put in carriers, either. Once I got them home, I put them in the foster room and shut the door so they could sniff around for a while. When Fred got home, he went in to see them, and they immediately ran over and purred and rubbed against him. I don’t know if they remember being here before, but it’s my guess that they do. They seem to, anyway.
Ellie-belly, especially, seems to remember snack time, because every time I’m in the kitchen she comes in howling for food. She’s such a sweet thing, I don’t get why no one’s adopted her yet.
Skittles does not approve of this “reading” nonsense.
Five minutes after I took this picture, I went to the door to call Fred in for his lunch. Sugarbutt was sitting there staring intently out the window at the stoop, which he spends a lot of time doing. I opened the door, then realized there was a goldfinch sitting on the door mat. “Oh!” I said, and bent down, assuming that as soon as I moved, he’d fly away. Instead, he looked up at me, and like a FLASH Sugarbutt was out the door, had the bird in his mouth, and ran back inside. “Sugarbutt, NO!” I bellowed. My voice echoed across the lawn to the church parking lot, where people were getting into their cars. I slammed the door and chased Sugarbutt up the stairs to the guest bedroom. He put the bird down on the guest bedroom floor, and cats swarmed from everywhere to stare hungrily at the bird. I picked him up, and he didn’t make a sound. Fred came through the door as I reached it, and took the bird. He stood with it in his hand for a few minutes before the bird flew off. Later, I realized that there was a yellow feather stuck to the door, so what I guess happened is that the bird hit the door and was sitting there stunned when I came to the door. That’s some unlucky timing for him, huh?
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.