Wherewithal

Fur Slippers

RIP, you effing rodents.

The cats are not dead, no, but they are dead to this house. We had to give them back after one showed up at our threshhold with a highly contagious intestinal parasite that sprayed out into our living space each time it decided to crap on our carpet, our bedclothes, and our closet floors. Adding insult to the injury of the foulest odor you can imagine emanating from such a teeny, tiny creature, the breeder kept insisting he had no idea how this little puffball got this disease, despite all the docs saying it has a seven-day incubation period.

I might have felt more sorry for the thing, had it done something proper like suffer in silence, but the thing never. shut. up. I understand it was likely in constant pain, but, after being told by Vet One and Vet Two to cut out any carpet he shat upon -- because the parasite, encased in an armored shell, never dies, you see -- and after averaging about three hours of sleep a night for a week, due to his insistent, and, for his size, his surpisingly powerful meow, I lost most of my compassion. And returned little Heisenberg to the breeder. And got my money back.

Titus Pullo was fine until H. left. Sort of. He contracted the parasite, but rid himself of it quickly, because we caught it right at the onset. His problem was that, once he bacame head of the house (for, though he was fully a third bigger than H., he was Scardey Cat around the little tyrant), he decided the world was his litter box. Oh, he used his litter box. He knew how. He just thought he could use this corner over here. And here. And here, too. The bed was the final straw. He went back to the cat foundation he came from. He was cute, but not that cute.

H. left June 30. Pullo took a hike on July 6. We have two gaping holes in our carpet, plus one enormous swath cut out and replaced with a reading bench built by Spouse. We've spent hundreds in vet bills and medicine for the vanished beasts.

Kids haven't asked about them once.

What Are A Couple of Extra Butts To Wipe?

Oh, they look cute, alright, just like kids do in pictures. They both stink, though, in the most literal sense. At least my children don't have the habit of sidling up to me and sticking their rear ends in my face after they do what they done do. Plus, to the best of my knowledge, my kids don't drink toilet water.

Oh yeah, so we got two kittens Sunday. The hub and I talked about the possibility of getting a couple, once the kids were old enough. Since our children are maturing at the rate of a tsetse fly, or so we convinced ourselves for this particular case, we decided that time was now. Not, say, when they may be old enough to help with things like feeding, changing litter boxes, that sort of thing. Because that would be practical. And helpful to Me, since Spouse never changes litter boxes, and I DON'T CARE IF YOU ARE AGGREIVED BY THAT LINE, SPOUSE, BECAUSE, THOUGH I LOVE YOU, WTF?

Maybe the idea of a couple of kittens sounded very entertaining indeed, particularly since we didn't exactly sketch out the cons, versus the cuddly and endearingly clumsy pros. We spent the day stretching underneath beds, chasing furballs around the house, trying to flush the beasties out of hiding. That, and the purebred that Phil insisted he wanted ended up being sick from every orifice (except the nose, and do count the eyes as orifices that ooze, my friends). This resulted in a lot of extra clean-up duty. Rescued cat fared much better, health-wise, but lived like a rat under our bed for the first 48 hours, scuttling out only after everyone else went to bed to scarf down the food Sick Cat wouldn't eat.

Ah, whatever, every day has gotten better, in terms of them adjusting and getting healthy. They're even showing an interest in one another that doesn't involve hissing. They are both sweet and playful and like attention.

The best part is that the kids LOOOOVE them, and they, in turn, are learning to like the kids. The first day, everyone was shell shocked, but Monday, Sick Cat (Heisenberg) was well enough to run around the house with the kids, to the kids' squealing delight. Kane got many minutes of bliss from just getting face to face with Heisenberg and letting H. sniff his face. When Carly finally got a chance to pet H. Monday afternoon, she decided she loved him well enough to show him the ropes of the Tagami household, which meant she brought him objects and said (with her binkie in her mouth), "Look, Heisenberg, this is a clock." "Look, Heisenberg, this is my Hello Kitty. That's my pink binkie."

Today, the kids got a chance to say hello to Titus Pullo (Scaredy Cat), and now, the two kittens (H. is 9 weeks old, and P. is about 11 weeks) are sniffing each other out and running up and down the hall.

This is the only full-fledged cat entry you will get from me. I already feel like the weird old lady whose house smells funny. Two words: kitten breath.

For a few pix of the kids, click here. Sorry about the lapse in writing. Thanks for checking in. Come back soon; I've returned, despite initial misgivings generated by an unwelcome visitor.