I got the banner of Khaleesi and the Dragons. Have we heard anything from their adopters recently?
How is Alice dealing another calico vying for her Daddy’s affection?
She actually seems fine with it. I would not have expected her to be so nonreactive to Trixie (who comes into the house for a little while most days), but for the most part she just ignores her. It probably helps that Trixie would rather be on her heated bed on the front porch than inside, most of the time.
(Side note story on Trixie: I was walking through the living room yesterday after I ate lunch, and I glanced up just in time to see a bird hit the front door full-force. As it fell toward the floor of the porch, Trixie FLEW off her heated bed, grabbed the bird, and ran off with it before I could even react. She’s a good little hunter, is what I’m saying.)
Flappy McGee and the Monster Egg… and especially Robyn and Fred reading the newspaper article in character….my favorite Love and Hisses story of all time!!
That entire situation still makes me laugh, nearly 15 years later – and I think Fred and I putting on our redneckiest accents and reading the article still holds up pretty well, too (though the sound quality isn’t the greatest… but it WAS 15 years ago). I love that if you Google “Flappy McGee Monster Egg,” the original story is still available on the news site.
Poor Flappy McGee!
How do the permanent residents feel about all the fosters? Do you think they ever feel jealous or resentful? Do they ever try to let them know that’s their home and territory?
They’re pretty used to it – we’ve fostered the entire time they’ve all been with us. They don’t seem to mind the fosters, and even seem to like watching them play. As long as the fosters mind their manners, all is well. If the fosters get too much in the permanent residents’ faces, a hiss will usually set them straight, though they’re willing to escalate to a smack or two if need be.
For the most part, the permanent residents only have to deal with the fosters face-to-face for a few weeks – then the fosters move on, and whoever goes into the foster room next spend several weeks (or a few months) with access only to the foster room, which gives the permanent residents a break. (Also the reason I always put fosters in the foster room – or in the case of Cinnaspin and Linzer, my office – overnight: so that the permanent residents get a break from them.)
I am leaving here in a little while to pick up Cinnaspin, Linzer and Brioche. They came through their surgeries just fine, and I believe that they charmed some of the employees at the vet’s office. Yesterday was, indeed, a very quiet day without them running around the house. I got the entire upstairs cleaned, some furniture moved around, and the closets organized.
There have been no inquiries about Brioche yet, but there have suddenly been several for Cinnaspin and Linzer. I’m waiting to hear how that shakes out, and what Michelle decides. When I know, I’ll let you know!
ALICE will be 13 years old in June. She showed up on our doorstep on a bitterly cold December evening. Fred stepped out on the front porch, and caught sight of a tiny kitten racing away. She ran to the side of the house and hid under a large bush where we couldn’t reach her. We tried luring her out with food, but she was too scared. We needed to return a movie to Blockbuster (this was in 2010), so Fred set up a trap on the front porch, and we went to town to return the movie. By the time we got back (less than half an hour later), she was in the trap.
She was so small that I thought she was only about 6 weeks old, but it turned out that she was actually 6 MONTHS old. The vet predicted that she’d always be small and probably wouldn’t get bigger than 7 pounds (that turned out to be wrong; she’s much more than 7 pounds, and could stand to lose a pound or two.)
Fred worked so hard at taming her that he got attached, and so although she went to Petsmart, he missed her and the very next day we went and adopted her.
She loves her Daddy (I am an acceptable substitute occasionally), ham, and catnip toys. She dislikes kittens and most of her brothers.
She’s the only permanent resident with her own theme song.
ARCHIE just turned 10 years old. He showed up on our doorstep in November 2014. He was skittish at first, but Fred worked hard at becoming friends with him, and it didn’t take too long for him to succeed. We intended to let him stay an outside cat, with plenty of warm shelters to hole up in, but Archie had other thoughts. After we spent a weekend trying to figure out how to stop him from climbing over the back yard fence and coming into the house, we gave up.
We have no idea where he came from, but it seems pretty clear that he’d been in someone’s house at some point in the past because nothing about being inside worried or startled him. I’m pretty sure someone dumped him, possibly in the field across the street.
He’s a good boy but he can be high-strung and takes offense if another cat gets too close to him. He’s all talk – he’ll hiss and growl and sound scary, but he’s never once scratched or bitten me (and since his nemesis Stefan passed away a few years ago, he doesn’t get into fights with the other cats.)
CHARLIE is our youngest permanent resident – he’ll be 3 in June. He started as one of our fosters – his foster name was Aramis, and he was one of the Mewsketeers litter.
From the very beginning, Charlie was a sweet, laid-back boy who got along well with all the other kittens, but also didn’t mind hanging out by himself. He absolutely adored curling up in a pile of beds I’d inadvertently left sitting on the couch, and that’s still one of his favorite places to snooze.
We had no intention of making him a permanent resident, but as his foster siblings were adopted and we faced the idea that the last three kittens might have to go to Petsmart, he suddenly seemed like he might be permanent resident material. He got along really well with not only his foster siblings, but also the permanent residents. He and Archie became buddies and were often seen playing together, and after a little while he and Jake became good buddies, too. The clincher was when he walked toward Alice – who finds kittens somewhat terrifying – and when she hissed quietly at him, he changed direction and avoided her and to this day does not harass her.
Really, he’s an all-around good boy. He purrs so hard sometimes that it sounds like a cricket singing. His name was nearly “Jiminy” because of that cricket purr, but the day I was in the foster room and he sat outside the door and wailed and wailed to come in, I decided his name should be “Charles, Prince of Wails” – Charlie for short. And so he is. (I suppose technically he’s now King Charles III)
We had his DNA tested because we were curious, and it turns out that he’s more Russian Blue than anything (that was a surprise to us!)
DEWEY will be 7 years old in March. He came to us in November 2016 as a foster. Susan (at Challenger’s House) had him at the shelter, and he was such a scaredy cat that she asked if Fred would work with him and maybe get him to a more confident, less scaredy-cat state.
(Before he ended up at Challenger’s House, he’d been discovered living rough in an industrial park along with three other cats; we assume they were dumped there.)
He was an extremely timid kitty at first, but with some hard work on Fred’s part, he came around. After fostering him for about a month, we decided that we couldn’t stand the idea of him at Petsmart, terrified, and since he got along with the other cats so well, we made him a permanent resident.
He’s now a fairly confident cat when it’s just the two of us (but let a stranger come into the house and – POOF! – he disappears into another dimension). When he first became a permanent resident he was good friends with Jake and with Frankie (who has since passed), but as he’s gotten older he’s become more solitary and likes his space. He can occasionally be seen playing with Jake, Khal and Charlie, but for the most part he prefers to just chill on his own.
A thing that has happened as he’s gotten older is that he doesn’t like to have his picture taken. He’s made it VERY clear that he doesn’t want his picture taken – I wish he could tell me why; is he in witness protection and is afraid the Mob is lurking on social media and will come after him? – and I am respecting his wishes, though I keep hoping he’ll change his mind.
Jake in 2009.
JAKE will be 14 in June. In August of 2009, Fred and I left the house for the better part of the day for a road trip to Tennessee. When we arrived home in mid-afternoon, we found 2 gray kittens, a container of cat food, and (oddly) a stack of egg cartons on our side stoop. Those two gray kittens were Jake and his twin brother Elwood (who passed from FIP in 2012.) Jake’s always had that slightly insane look, and we’ve called him Loony Jake from the very beginning. He’s a goofy boy with a guilty conscience, a love for kitten food (well, for all food, really), and a love for other cats (except Archie.) He tolerates the fosters, though he’s gotten grumpier about them as he’s gotten older.
Everyone always thinks Jake is Russian Blue. He does have some Russian Blue in him, but he’s more Siberian than anything else.
KHAL DROGO will be 9 in May. He first showed up on our property around the end of 2015. He was extremely skittish, and at that point neither of us was ever able to get close to him at all. He showed up for a while, and then disappeared, and we figured that he’d either gone back from whence he came, or had been gotten by a predator.
Some time in 2016 he showed up again, and Fred got serious about taming him. It took him several months, but he was finally able to start petting him, and after that Khal (who we were calling Fancypants v2.0 because he reminded us so much of our late cat Fancypants) was pretty much coming around every day.
It took a few more months, but it finally got to the point where Fred could pick up Khal without him freaking out. So it was time to get him to the vet for testing and neutering. So one day Fred picked him up and put him into a carrier, and Khal FREAKED OUT. Which wouldn’t be a problem except that Fred hadn’t properly latched the top of the carrier, and Khal was able to get out of the carrier and flee.
It took another few months for him to start trusting Fred again, and we finally got him off to the vet. He was deemed “3 or 4 years old”, is otherwise healthy, but FIV positive.
It took years, but Khal has turned into the biggest, bossiest, snuggliest brat ever. We moved to a new house in late 2017 and he continued to avoid me until the day I sat down in Fred’s chair. Khal jumped up into my lap almost immediately and then decided I was not so scary. When we watch TV in the evenings, he’ll come climb on me and squeak bossily at me if I stop petting him.He’s just a great big ol’ baby.
Someone sent us a Basepaws cat DNA test so we could find out his genetic makeup. I thought he’d be largely Maine Coon or Norwegian Forest Cat, but as it turns out, he’s a little bit of everything.
NEWT just turned 17 (he’ll be 18 in October.) We bought a house in the country in September of 2006, and before we’d actually closed on the house, a little black cat, clearly nursing kittens, showed up here. That was Maxi. She showed up intermittently, and then all the time once she realized there’d always be food and a safe place to sleep for her. Eventually, she showed up with a buff cat who was not more than a kitten. We originally thought that he might be the father of Maxi’s kittens, but the vet said she was pretty sure he wasn’t fully grown yet, and chances were good that he might be Maxi’s kitten from a previous litter (I have since been informed that there’s no way Maxi could have birthed an orange kitten because [insert boring scientific reasons], but Newt sure seemed to think she was his mama, and I’m not telling him any different).
A lady who lived down the road wanted to adopt Maxi and Newt; we did take them in to be spayed and neutered for her, and Maxi and Newt went to live down the road for… oh, I think it might have been an entire day before they showed back up on our doorstep and never left.
(Maxi passed away in 2018.)
Newt is a very quiet, very sweet boy who doesn’t ask for much aside from a warm place to sleep and food to eat. He spends his days sleeping in various places, and his nights sleeping on a heated bed in the front room. In his old age he’s got a few chronic health issues that are easily treated with medication, but overall he’s doing really well. He tolerates the other cats, and finds fosters interesting (mostly because they eat kitten food, which he finds delicious.)
Trixie and Rocco are two cats who belong to a neighbor, but who have taken up residence on our front porch. (Trixie is out there probably 75 – 80% of the time; Rocco maybe 60% of the time.) We had them spayed and neutered earlier this year, we make sure they have food and warm, safe places to sleep, and when it got bitterly cold in December, we set up a warm safe spot in the garage for them. I guess we’re considering them honorary Permanent Residents, but I don’t have to like it. 🙄 Trixie will come inside for short periods of time, but Rocco does NOT want to. We think they’re about 2 years old.
2022: My prediction is that we’re going to get a “no pregnant” and some meds, but of course I’ll let y’all know.
2021: “You talkin’ about my belly again?”
2020: Maybe in another 13 years I’ll try again.
2019: Haaaave you met Charles, father to Caroline’s kittens?
2018: No entry.
2017: Yes, his name is definitely Frankie.
2016: “Babies! You can come out any time now, the lady says!”
2015: If that’s not a judgemental little face, I don’t know what is.
2014: This is Orlando, I think.
2013: No entry.
2012: Everett, Sally, and Lucy made Tommy an honorary black Pepper.
2011: “Pay no attention to the Rhyme behind me.”
2010: Cheesecake pose.
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.