We have an update! First, a few pictures of what she looked like as our foster.
Recognize her? How about now?
And if that doesn’t jog your memory, surely this one will.
Anyone who was reading back then probably knows already who I’m talking about, but for those newer readers, that is Khaleesi, who came to us hugely pregnant and then made us wait two weeks before she had her kittens. Then she birthed four kittens of her own and took on the care of a fifth kitten, who we slipped in between her third and fourth kittens. You can read the whole story of Khaleesi delivering her kittens here.
(On a side note, back then I had two foster rooms. Khaleesi and her kittens were in my second foster room, which has since become Fred’s office since he now works from home.)
We went to South Carolina over Christmas and swung through Auburn to pick up the Daughter on the way. We spent the night at her place and a some point during the night Khaleesi settled in by my feet on the sofa bed. By “settled in”, I mean that she jumped up on to the top of the washing machine in the weird closet, hopped on to the top of the three-quarter wall, jumped down on to the back of the sofa, walked across my face and down my body. Then she got comfy.
In the morning, I had to wake her up…
Me: Time to wake up, Your Majesty.
Khaleesi: Get up? It’s really early.
Me: I need to take you to “the hotel” for a couple of days.
Khaleesi: Ugh…But, I was just there.
Me: Yes, that’s because your human went to check out the University of Alberta in Edmonton.
Khaleesi: Edmonton, isn’t that in Canada?
Me: Yes. Yes it is.
Khaleesi: If we end up there, we’re gonna need more fur.
An Alabama kitty in Canada? Brrrr!
Thanks for the update, Alton – and give that girl a kiss from us!
One night last week I was laying in bed reading, and I heard an unfamiliar, very loud meow, the sound of a cat in distress. I’m not used to Dewey’s “voice” yet, so I thought it was him. I went into the front room, and Dewey blinked at me from the cat tree while the meowing – and hissing and growling – continued on the front porch. I went out with a flashlight, and after I looked around for a few moments, a small orange tabby burst out of the bushes beside the porch and ran toward the house next door. A moment later, Archie sauntered out.
The orange tabby was definitely neither Newt nor Stefan (they were both inside), so we set up the game cam at the feeding station to see if this visit was a one-time thing, or if the cat had been showing up for a while without us knowing it.
I left the game cam outside for three days and got 1700+ pictures, mostly of the red chickens we refer to collectively as “the Carlas” stomping back and forth to the feeding station. There were no pictures of the little orange tabby.
I did catch a set of pictures of Fancypants making himself at home.
Regarding Fancypants: after he escaped the carrier (as mentioned in this post), Fred hasn’t been able to touch him again. We’ll likely end up having to trap him, but for now Fred wants to keep trying to make friends. We’ll give him another month or so to come around before we go that route.
2016: No entry.
2015: “I wanted the wall basket to MYSELF.”
2014: I just love it so very much when cats sit there with the end of their tongue sticking out, all “Wha? Wha tho funny? Why you laughin’?”
2013: I should rename him Baleful Beans.
2012: I went a little astray from my original idea, but when I was done, I laughed and laughed like a big dork.
2011: No entry.
2010: No entry.
2009: No entry.
2008: Humans are just so stupid, that’s the way they is made.
2007: I think it’s possible that Newt, who is Not Our Cat, might end up becoming an inside cat. (HA – ya THINK, 2007 Robyn? You really think he might? Here’s an update: he spends 99.999% of his time inside, piled up in an overstuffed cat bed like a big ol’ slug.)
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.