Bloomin' Crazy

Bloomin' Crazy

Blogging a lot is hard to do

Guess who's back, back again Doohdle's back, tell a friend (with a nod to Eminem)

This blogging thing ain't easy. Especially when your Mom forgets the password AND the logon. But I can't gripe too much. She's promised to fry some bacon for me, so I have to bite my tongue. My pal Ray sent me TWO whole packs for Christmas! Mmmmmm-mmmm! Now, if I can just get Mom to fry it.

There's been a problem with the stove, however. Seems some cat/cats forgot where the litter box is and decided to use the stove burners as their very own pee place. Mom was not happy. I can't blame her. She turned on the stove to cook and the smell of burning cat urine wafted through the kitchen. Mom was yelling and running around trying to turn off the eyes. She opened the door to the screened porch, but it still smelled awful. It took hours for that stench to subside.

Today we got lots of toys for Christmas. I say 'we', but I wasn't too impressed. I'm past the 'mousie' stage, and catnip does nothing for me. But I did love that laser light Mom got us. Wow! That thing is more fun than chasing Sugar up the cat tree! Now if I can just find a way to keep those young-uns out of the way. I see the light, I pounce to attack and one of those goofy kittens gets right in my line of fire.

Speaking of ... they aren't really kittens anymore. They're more like pesky teen-kitties. They eat up the food, make a mess in the LB (cover yer poop!) and steal Mom's attention away from me! But I think two of them are going adios today. I hear Otis and Merlin are getting adopted. Little Otis is a nice little guy. I will miss them. A little. Just a little. Now, if we could just get rid of that *#&$% Lola, my life would be peachy.

Well, time to take a siesta. Ya'll come back now, ya here?

Dying for an answer

It's a question most of us have wondered about at least once in our lives. When will I die? Well, leave it to the Internet to provide an answer to that confounding question.

I have found out that I will die at 74. So, I still have a little time to eat what I want and see the world. Makes you think twice about putting money in that 401(K) though, doesn't it?

Check it out.

Don't stand too close to me

After his last few public gaffes, it's not a stretch to think our Idiot in Chief would mimic the actions of this doll done in his likeness. Wouldn't you love to be a fly on the wall in the Oval Office? On second thought, maybe not.
http://www.prankplace.com/fbush.htm

In remembrance

(Oliver, Emily and Saffron "Saffy")

Fostering kitties can be messy, as I've noted. It can be fun. It can be rewarding. But it can be really, really sad. Last week we lost three of our foster kittens. The kittens were brought to us by a nice couple who rescued their mother and took care of her during her pregnancy and while the little ones were nursing.

We didn't notice anything wrong when they first came to live with us, though a visitor who was adopting pointed out that the runt "looks very fragile." They were a little odd looking, in that their eyes looked too big for their little heads. They cried a lot, but Mom thought they missed their mother. So she put another cat in with them who had had kittens that were already adopted.

Things seemed fine. The kittens ate, they played and they seemed to be growing. Another foster volunteered to help Mom (she had nearly 20 kittens!) and took in the little ones. We got the runt, Saffy, back after a day because she wasn't eating and cried a lot. Mom took her to the vet, but he saw nothing wrong. The fecal test showed nothing wrong, though she had diarrhea. Mom watched her closely and fed her often, making sure she got plenty by letting her eat alone. Still she wouldn't play with the others. She would just sit on Mom's leg or shoulder most days, content to be near her.

After a week, Mom got the entire litter back except Emily and she went to a different foster. They seemed fine. Eating, playing, running around. But still the crying.

On Sunday night when Mom came home from her adoption event, she decided to de-worm all of them again after talking to some other fosters about their crying. The three she found were listless. She went to find Oliver and he was laying on the floor. He meowed, but she knew he was very ill. She took him to the ER immediately, but he died in the 15 minutes it took to get there. When Mom got home, she buried little Oliver in the back yard.

Then she called Emily's foster to check on her. She found out she had been sneezing, so Mom decided to go get her and take the rest of the litter back to the ER just to be safe. She went to pick up Emily and when the foster brought her to her, she told her she was dead. Mom was stunned. She went on the ER with the three surviving kittens. The vet there told her there was one of three things that could be wrong: intestinal parasites, food allergies or genetic problems. The kittens were tested for parasites and none were found. They were given fluids and Mom went back home with them. She got home at 12:30 a.m. and buried little Emily that night. She didn't sleep much.

The next day she took the other three kittens to her vet, whom she trusts completely. Little Saffy nearly died on the way there. Mom held her in her lap while driving and stroked her begging her to hang on ... she did. After they got to the vet's office, they had to wait about five minutes and Saffy again nearly died, but Mom urged her to hang on. Our vet tested the kittens once again for parasites ... none seen. They were given fluids and special food to try to keep them going. Mom came home and fed Saffy by hand, putting tiny bits of a/d in her little mouth and feeding her CliniCare by syringe. She had to go to work, so she kissed her and asked to hang on until she got back, but knew in her heart what would happen.

When she got home from work around 1 a.m., little Saffy had passed away. She buried her the next morning next to her brother and sister. Three tiny little graves with three tiny little kittens in less than 36 hours.

The two remaining kittens, Otis and Merlin, are doing better, though Mom says they aren't out of the woods yet. She is keeping them in their own room and feeding them several times a day with a/d, CliniCare and a special formula she found on the Internet. They play a little, but run out of energy quickly. She gives them lots of hugs and kisses and praise. Just like she did with Saffy. If their lives are going to be short, at least they will know love.

Manure manners

My Mom fosters kittens. Lots of kittens. The little poopers are everywhere! Mom is a lot more patient with them than I am. I like to grab them by the neck and hold them down. Just to show who's boss. But the last couple of days, Mom has even wanted to throttle a couple of them ... I do believe.

Monday night, we're getting ready to hit the hay. Mom grabs me up and says, "Let's go to bed, Doodle." She puts me down on the bed first and I notice the problem right away and think "This isn't going to be pretty." Mom starts to lay down and then jumps up and yells, "Ew!" Those little poopers had peed on the bed. Right in the middle. So Mom grumbles a little then grabs me and we head for the couch. I'm thinking, "This ain't over."

Next morning, sure nuff, Mom goes in the bedroom to change the sheets and there's poop on there. Two nice little piles. Then last night Mom is walking around the living room and she spots something. A pile o' poo. She looks behind a mirror leaning against the wall, another pile. She gets up this morning ... two more piles in almost the same spots. I don't call them 'little poopers' for nothing. heheh

Damn the foam and full speed ahead

Photo by NASA

NASA is proceeding with the Discovery launch on Tuesday despite the fact a piece of foam popped off the shuttle's external fuel tank as the spacecraft sat on the launch pad. Hmmmmmmm. This sounds awfully familiar ...

Praise the Lord and pass the mouse

The modem has arrived! HALLELUJAH!