The one where Hulk just finally turns off his computer and walks away forever.

On Friday, I was at work when my phone rang. My phone rings so rarely, and when it does it’s usually “credit card services” letting me know “there’s nothing wrong with my account” but that I can get a “zero-interest-rate” deal if I press 1.

They seem immune to me telling them to go away. They must work for the same organization that has brought me my unfortunate new neck.

But it wasn’t credit card services. It was the shelter. They had one, just one, little boy kitten who was still being bottle-fed, and could I take him in even though I don’t foster anymore?

The last time I fostered didn’t end well for me. It was at my old house, with that concrete floor that was perfect for kittening. Last July, after I’d officially sold my house, the shelter asked me to take three newborn kittens whose mother had been hit by a car. (Isn’t that just awful?) The kittens were maybe two weeks old. I had to get up in the night and bottle-feed them, and rush home at lunch and bottle-feed them some more. I had to stimulate them to pee and poop.

The three of them. Oh, I loved those kittens.

It was a lot, and it was intensified by the fact that I was about to move. My moving date was September 14, and, you know, I got them in July. Since they were so young, I knew I’d have them at least five weeks. I figured I’d just get them raised right under the wire.

As moving day grew closer, my house was in greater disarray. And, I mean, I was filling out endless papers and getting loans and giving money that was earnest and Bert, and finding this old document and that one, and packing my life, and meanwhile I’m bottle-feeding three kittens 46 times a day at about an hour at a time.

Usually when I foster, what happens is one of the times I take them back for booster shots, they weigh enough that they take the kittens from me, because they’re ready to be spayed or neutered. They have to weigh 2 pounds to be fixed–although some places say 1.5 pounds is enough.

That last weekend, ONE WEEK BEFORE MOVING DAY, they were all about 1.8 pounds, 1.9 pounds. I took them to the shelter for boosters. And? They BROUGHT THEM BACK OUT TO ME.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Well, they aren’t quite 2 pounds yet.”

Every other time I’d fostered kittens, they’d taken them back once they hovered near 2 pounds, but this week they were going to be persnickety.

“I’m moving,” I told the woman there. “I’ve avoided packing the room they’re in, but I absolutely have to get that room done this week. I can’t keep them any longer. I thought for sure you’d take them back this time.”


THEY WERE SO HOSTILE ABOUT IT. They took the kittens back without a word. Nothing. Six weeks I’d gotten up at 3 a.m. for feedings, I’d bought can after can of really expensive formula. I’d peed them and pooped them and burped them and cleaned up after them. And the shelter didn’t even say thank you.

I was so broken-hearted it’d ended that way, and I’d gotten, as you can imagine, very attached to the three of them. They of course spayed and neutered them anyway, and the good news is, a friend at work, Frapdorp, took the yellow one and the tuxedo, and that beautiful calico was adopted immediately, as well.

of course i do be

Still. I had mixed feelings about the shelter after that. But then they called Friday, and my mind was all,


and I forgot I was mad.

As soon as work ended on Friday, I screamed down there. And when I walked in, one of the nice women who works there right away said, “June!” And then I wasn’t irked anymore. I didn’t see Wordless Woman of Thankless Hostility anywhere, so maybe a rabid dog ate her.

Anyway, they brought me this.


Old Marty Feldman eyes is around four weeks old and as you can see, is still drinking from a bottle. Quite neatly.

I’d of course thrown away the baby bottles I had on hand, because I thought I was done fostering forever, and plus also too I was moving. So when I got the kitten, I made them give me formula there at the shelter, but had to buy some bottles. And?

Weekend, summed up.

Oh! And the pen mark on my pajams reminded me. Because of course there has to be chaos all the time, I’d told the company I’m freelancing for that I’d get their work done this weekend. So whenever the kitten slept, I worked on that, and I did, in fact, get it done.

Whenever I felt overwhelmed, I remembered what it was like to try to move to a different house while caring for three kittens and I got over it.

I have not introduced him to the cats, because you aren’t supposed to. He’s too young to have vaccines and so on. However, I did let him meet one special someone.

todaay be the grate-est day Edz ever no.

can’t wate for tomrrow

(You’re welcome for the Smashing Pumpkins lyrics.)

Eds is thrilled to have a new charge, and the kitten is delighted with his flapping tail. Meanwhile, I did no housework or laundry all weekend and the only thing I ate was pizza, but hey.

New kitten!

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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.

57 thoughts on “The one where Hulk just finally turns off his computer and walks away forever.”

  1. I’ve toyed with fostering a dog but I am pretty sure I would never give it back.


  2. Oh my heckin’ gosh, (got that from some Utah people!) love baby boy kitty boopy head! And you KILL with your pic captions “todaay be the grate-est day Edz ever no.” deaded right here


    1. I sort of dated a Mormon guy in high school. When he broke up with me four days into our relationship (that included zero actual dates), I didn’t bother trying to correct the false rumor he’d heard about me going out with someone else – I was glad for an easy way out of not hearing “Oh my heck!” anymore.


  3. Excellent post and even with that title Hulk couldn’t come comment today. What’s up, Hulk? Off living your life and working for a living and all that stuff?

    We miss you! Come see all the cute pet pics with us.


  4. Oh how i LOVED the thought of the witch being eaten by a rabid dog. I am allergic, but it looks so fun. Ernest and bert got me too. Good stuff! Doing laundry and eating food besides pizza is overrated. Glad you got your freelance done. I babysit for kids not kittens during the school year when my kids are at school. I feel so accomplished when I get my stuff done while entertaining the tykes.


  5. The shelter has a new director – so perhaps a rabid dog did eat the other one. Our dog came from the shelter; the volunteers were so much better to deal with than the director. Thank you for the adorable kitten photos and for making Edz so happy.


  6. I just read an article about how robo-calls are at an all time high. Most are illegal, but trying to catch the idiots doing it is nearly impossible. If they ever figure out how to spoof the numbers of the people that are in your address book, we’re all doomed.

    Edsel is in kitten heaven over there. Lucky boy!


  7. What hump? Ohhh I want to bottle feed a kitty. Maybe I’ll volunteer to foster since I work from home. And with my track record for fostering, I’ll have a litter of cats in addition to my three.


  8. “the same organization that has brought me my unfortunate new neck.” Hilarious! Also, Edsel is smiling in that first picture.


  9. I’m still hung up on the way the shelter treated you. Not saying I wouldn’t foster again, but I would make it known how I was treated. You’re a better person than I am. Also too, love Eds and his happiness.


  10. I imagine those workers at the shelter see so many bad things that some days must really suck for them. Maybe she was having a bad day even though she’s in one of those jobs where so much is at stake. I could never do what they do, so I give the moolah (and old towels). Edsel looks deliriously happy.


  11. Edsel looks like those kids who get their dream present at Christmas and are so excited they can’t believe it’s real.


  12. “Oh happee day for Eds! Mom brot new kitten fur me! Eye luff Mom!”
    I love Edsel.He has such a loving heart.


  13. I’m also sorry the shelter was such a dick. They should worship their fostering mothers. The new one is a doll, but that calico…gorgeous with an attitude.


  14. Marty Feldman eyes! Edsel is so happy with his new kitten, I’m sure he immediately wrote in his diary, “Kidy sirpriz. Neber sad agin.”


  15. The joy on Edsel’s face made me smile! He looks so happy to be kitten sitting again! That dog was made to be a kitten nanny. I swear, if he could nurse that kitten, he probably would!


  16. Kitten! One of the best things ever. Have you given him a name?

    Rachael at credit card services! A friend showed me how to block numbers and I’ve been blocking away, it’s helped, but I am still getting calls from restricted numbers that can’t be blocked mostly from real estate people wanting to buy ugly houses.


  17. Such a cute little fellow! Is Edsel calmer and less anxious now there’s a kitten in the house?


  18. Hahahaha. Rapid dog ate her. Let’s hope. That would really stick in my craw (um?) but I am glad time and nicer people have helped ease the annoyance.

    Edsel is properly smiling in the first photo with the mitten kitten. Inline that the kitten chases his tail.


  19. Sweet little muffin! I’m so glad you decided to foster again. I know Eds is super glad!


  20. Thank you, June, for fostering kittens. And taking pictures of kittens! I love your kitten posts. You are a wonderful woman with a big heart.


      1. Men like a woman with back. I’ll trade you that ass for my thick waist and useless birthing hips any day


  21. You’re amazing for doing bottle feeders. Amazing. So many people, me included, think it would be too much and never try the bottle feeders. Thank you and I’m sorry that the shelter didn’t thank you.


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