When I first get up, I feel vaguely like a cafeteria server at the prison, or like Laura Ingalls Wilder when she had to feed the threshers the first day she was married.
“Gee, June, I don’t remember that from the show.”
And that was the day June tore down the street in her chonies and cut out her own tonsils.
Anyway, feeding the threshers. Not that even one of these mofos has helped me thresh even once.
I really have to vacuum that floor. I tried just sweeping it, but I see some leftover Feline Pine. This means Ima have to pull out the vacuum and terrify four kittens. Rewarding!
Anyway, when we left each other on Saturday, I had taken all the kittens and their mom to the shelter, for their shots and so on. When they brought back the cat carrier, I could tell right away that Nancy, the mom, was not in the carrier. “She’s ready to be adopted,” they told me. “Your friend, I think his name was Ned Nickerson? Emailed me to say he wants the mom.”
She knew more than I did. For while I had included Ned in a group email saying the kittens and mom were almost ready, he hadn’t written me to say, “Ima take the mom, for sure.” Or even fo sho. As Ned is forever talking that way. You know how street he is.
So then I came home and wrote to you, and said if anyone wants to fekking leave a tip for June, your old pal June, that would be great, because it turns out four kittens eat a lot and poop a lot, and yay, thank you for your tips thus far!
Then I couldn’t stand it, and I called Ned. “They took the mom cat from me. Are you really adopting her?”
He really is! When I called him, on Saturday morning, he was in Raleigh, and do I want to know why he was in Raleigh that early? I do not. I figure there was some kind of VaginaFest 2018 that he attended that I’d rather not consider.
The point is, while the shelter DICKED HIM AROUND–kept telling him one thing and then he’d get there and learn another (he’s been to the shelter like three times this week), and no one seems to know what anyone else is doing there–he is, in fact, getting Nancy today.
One of the things they did tell him Saturday was that he had to come get her right away, that they could not keep her on hold, so he screamed down there and they were all, “Well, she needs to be spade first.”
Jesus. But that gave Ned, who you may know is something of an unspontaneous person, a chance to go to the pet supply store, even though he already just had a cat for 18 years, and get new litter boxes and a new cat carrier and a little litter-trapping rug and I don’t even know what else, I just know he spent like $200. For a $25 cat from the shelter.
He said Nancy was already in the cats-for-adoption room when he got there the third and final time till he goes back today, just dead asleep, and he said she was probably exhausted from seven weeks of mom-ing. Her surgery is today, which ought to perk her up. Heh. He gets her at 5:00.
Meanwhile, I get to keep her children for two weeks. I don’t see the point, really. If they’re away from their mom, and they’re with me, why can’t they just be in another, permanent home?
Lexi took this one of herself, while I had the camera at the ready this weekend. It’s hard to photograph a kitten, as they are constantly on the go.
At work, one of our clients was, let’s say, a telecommunications company, and every three seconds they had something happening “on the go.” Get your bill on the go. Now you can watch The Big Game on the go. We do this service for you, because we know you’re always on the go.
Guess what I worked hard to recast? In copy editing, instead of just saying, “Re-fucking-write this,” we say, “recast.” Because we’re pretentious. And on the go.
Anyway, whenever evil Steely Dan is outside,
I let the kittens out. He seems appalled by them, and while he was great with Jodie Foster, I don’t want to take a chance with his evil self.
But the point is, Edsel is an excellent kitten-sitter.
Could I look more hagged out in that photo? Hey, I have a lot to take care of right now.
But seriously. When I open the door to the kitten room, he gets this excited whine under his breath, and they all tumble out of there
and climb all over Edsel.
Somebody peed on the bedspread in there, so I just took it off. That room is a mess. I was in there scrubbing the floor with vinegar this weekend, and as I already announced, I see I have to vacuum over by the boxes and food and so on. Good lort.
Anyway, he’s excellent with them. My mother said they’re like Fay Ray and he’s King Kong.
Queen Kong. Who’re we kidding?
So that was my weekend, although I did go out with the four coworkers who still like me.
We met up in a part of town I really like. Everything’s old. I guess it goes without saying that if I really like something, it means it’s old.
The good news is, there was a puppy at the bar, ye olde bar, so thank heavens I left my house of pets to go out and admire pets.
But seriously. IRISH WOLFHOUND!!
I also ended up going to a Super Bowl shindig, and what commercials did you like? I thought the Bud Knight was funny. And I don’t want to see movie trailers during my Super Bowl commercials. Fuck off.
Anyway, when Ned gets Nancy I’ll officially alert you–and yes, he’s keeping the name Nancy. “Well, she already has a name,” he said, like she’s a dog or something. He’s very nervous. He’s only ever had the one cat, and he worries about adjusting to a new cat’s quirks. But Nancy is a delight. Unless she was being polite and once she feels more comfortable, she will be World’s Worst Cat. But you’ll be stunned to hear that I feel like I know from cats, and she’s a good one.
Why would you know from cats, June? Why won’t you go ahead and recover that chair, June? That you already bought fabric for, June?