Day before yesterday, Henry got fixed. Not that he was broken, I was just trying to avoid any little Henrys, if you can imagine anything littler than Henry.

I know you may be thinking, How can he possibly be big enough to be getting fixed already? Or maybe you're thinking, Geez Louise, is she really going to talk about that kitten again? But the rule nowadays is as long as you weigh two pounds, you are big enough to get neutered. And also, if it's my blog, I get to discuss this kitten ad nauseum.

I looked it up on Google, because as usual I do not know what I did before Google. Was I able to form a thought or an opinion? Anyway, they said when you neuter a kitten really young, the recovery time is remarkably brief.

He had to be gone overnight and our house was depressingly devoid of ridiculousness Tuesday night. It was so calm and insane-kitty free. Last night when I picked him up, and he looked so tiny in his big kitty crate, which reads "Winston" across the top (all of our cat crates have the names of our cats across the top from when we had to fly them here from LA), they told me that I had to limit Henry's activity.

He is a two-and-a-half month old kitten. Limit his activity.

Also, they said not to feed him much, because he may throw it up.

He slept in the car on the way home, which was a relief. When we got home, the other pets gathered like the three wise men to see who was emerging from the carrier, and as soon as I opened that crate, out bopped Henry.

"HI!" he seemed to say. "I'M HOME! WHERE'S THE DING-DANG FOOD?" He ZOOMED! over to the food bowl.

"Henry, watch your movement!" I called after him. He seemed ravenous. I let him eat for maybe 30 seconds and he meowed angrily when I pulled him off the food. He ZOOMED! after Tallulah. "Henry, please," I said. I put him in the spare room with a litter box, and he mow mow mow mow mowed for an hour, so I let him out.

Within seconds, Henry was leaping on both cats and the dog, and the dining room chairs, and he was back at the food bowl again. It's like he has no clue he is singing soprano. I'm gonna put him in the spare room while I'm at work today, but I know he's gonna be irked. HE SEEMS PERFECTLY FINE. How can he be perfectly fine? The woman at work who had her appendix out has to be gone for four weeks! He had surgery yesterday and he is hanging from the ceiling like a bat.

He's having a ball. And yet he isn't.

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At one point, I was sort of hot, in a "she's 27 and probably a 7" kind of a way. Now I'm old and have to develop a charming personality. Guess how that's going.

16 thoughts on “Nads”

  1. “”Henry, watch your movement!” I called after him.” HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
    I loved this post. Why haven’t I seen you before? Where on earth have you been????? Just when I think I’ve read all the good blogs in the world, then someone like you comes along.


  2. You had to wait until Tallulah (am I spelling that right? You never talk about her anymore) was 5 months old, but Henry was already ready to get “fixed”? That’s crazy. Poor thing. But he sounds like he’s handling it fine!


  3. After my cat was neutered and we brought him home, I was holding him in my arms. He wanted to get down, so I leaned forward and loosened my arms to let him out. Oops, he was still groggy from the anesthesia and landed smack on his head. Who said a cat always lands on his feet?


  4. You should have filled him up with a jar of baby food beef, then the activity would have slowed down significantly, because his little tummy would have been full and he would want to sleep. My little old man, Oscar Snuggles, King of Tidewater, recently had to have surgery to clean out a terrible abcess. The vet told me not to feed him much, yeah, right! He was staving! He ate two jars of baby food and it didn’t make him sick. He’s a bit spoiled. Just like your cats. Loved the photo. I didn’t know you could neuter them that young.


  5. Henry has the ability to look adorable in every picture. He also adds the loving gestures to his siblings. You can tell he just loves his new home and family!


  6. LisaPie, it didn’t stand for anything but the sheer joy we got from screaming, “Gonads!” in public at an ivy league school. Not unlike you and your friends yelling for the Pecker. Tee Hee


  7. That was the best cat photo yet! I am so in love with Sir Winston. If there weren’t a plethera of cats already in residence here, I would put in a bid on him!
    Many years ago I had 2 cats, sister and brother named Alice and Wallace (A&W). I took them down to the vets to get neutered, only we called it “tutored” so as not to scare them. I must have been talking about this an awful lot at work because one of my co-workers started laughing and came to tell me that my cats’ new names should be:
    Eggless Alice and Ball-less Wallace.
    I am sure I don’t need to tell you that those names stuck and to this day people ask me about them!
    And Furry Godmother, I have to know! Wtf did the Nads stand for? Or was it just so you could say it?
    Our local “minor league” hockey team had a player a couple years ago named Pecker. We had so much fun yelling “Come On Pecker!!!” from the stands. I just hated it when he moved up to the next league. 🙂


  8. Awww. Is Winston sitting on Henry to limit his activity?
    And as an aside, I went to RISD and being art school, it was pretty devoid of team sports. We did have a hockey team, however, called the “Nads”. That’s right. We had a team where we could go in our purple mohawks to Brown University and scream, “GO NADS!” from the bleachers.
    Because we weren’t drawing enough attention to ourselves by our attire.


  9. When I had my kitten fixed, she came home that very same day because she wasn’t declawed and the vets rule is that if they keep their fingers, they don’t have to stay overnight.
    Anyways, she came home and was running up and down the stairs, then i thought “oh, Ill put her in my room and she can rest”….HAH…big joke. She was pawing under the door like “i’m trapped, somone help me…let me out!”
    There is NO possible way to “Limit their activity” in any way shape or form. I think they like telling everyone that and then realizing that on the way home these poor people think its possible but once the cats out of the box, all hell breaks loose like nothing ever happened! They know this and they laugh just thinking about it.


  10. Good for you. I’m proud to say, the only pet I’ve ever owned to reproduce was when our gerbils turned out to be Strider and Louise instead of Strider and Legolas.
    They don’t give a kitten an Elizabethan collar?


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