Tina Louise is now at the pet store. When I put her in the cage to check it out (and then took her out and cuddled her; I didn’t just throw her in the cage and take off, no – it was an hour-long extravaganza of coaching her to look cute and be friendly with a heaping helping of feeling guilty liberally sprinkled on top), she walked around the cage hissing, and when people walked by she’d hiss some more. She checked out her litter box and I was afraid she might decide to hide in there, but she didn’t – she came out and looked around some more, and finally I had to leave or else I’d clutch her to my bosom and run out of there and maybe hide her in the closet and keep her forever and ever.

The word from the adoption counselor (they do adoptions Tuesday evenings), someone was quite taken with her, but since they got to the store just before it closed, they were going to come back Friday and maybe adopt her or Eragon (the cat who was abandoned by the side of the road in a cat carrier in the middle of the summer in Alabama, grrrrr), or hopefully both.

Here’s hoping!

Break my heart, why dontcha?

* * *

Note that the chickens CERTAINLY make themselves at home when Fred lets them into the back yard every afternoon. We’ve got a Buff roosting on the side of the pot that holds the one roma tomato plant we’ve got – they also like to peck at the plant, and oddly enough (NOT) it has stopped producing tomatoes. There’s a Speckle on the table, rooting through the black beans Fred left there to dry, and on the chair is another Speckle, about to lay a big chickeny poop on that chair, I’m sure.

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Speaking of foster kitties, remember Jack Frost, one of the Christmas kitties?

This is one of my favorite pictures I’ve ever taken. In fact, it’s the picture on my checks right now.

Well, he was returned to the shelter last week because his owners were moving and couldn’t or didn’t want to take him with them. (Grrrr.)

This is Jack Frost now. Fred says he has a Mister Boogers hatin’ look.

* * *

Sugarbutt, hiding in Fred’s bed. He does this whenever the doorbell rings or a stranger enters the house.


2006: No entry.
2005: I swear, Oy bounces around so bright-eyed and full of energy that it’s hard to get him to stand still.

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