Tag Archives: pooties

Haiku For Jess

25 Dec

You’ve gone away now
I miss you horribly
I hope you stay safe.

I judged you at risk
I made a hard snap judgment
And fate took its course.

I hear you’re at a farm
With your own dogs and houses
Outside of my realm.

It sounded awesome
I so hope it takes. Why not?
You’re really special.

Meanwhile, here we fight
And try to survive, humans
Or not, best we can.

Remembering you
Whether we want to or not
You’re always in us.

Lily, You Suck Bigtime

21 Dec

Jess at the shelter

You’re my neighbor, Lily. Remember all the vegetables I grew that I gave you? Remember all that other stuff I gave you?

Because we’re neighbors! as you always said.

I thought, okay. I want to be on good terms with my neighbors. That’s only sensible.

Remember my sweet cat Alice? The one who visited you and whom you let indoors? She caught you some mice, you said. That was nice.

Alice got sick and died ten years ago. But meanwhile, I adopted an equally sweet cat, Jess. She used to visit you. I hoped you had become friends, even though you weren’t speaking to me after the last accusatory insane outburst.

I’d pretty much given up on you, Lily. I know, you’re really old. But you’re also really crazy.

And you feed my dogs chicken bones and fat over the fence. And you trapped my poor cat Jess and left her in the rain for a long time before Animal Control came and got her.

I hear she was really freaked. This is animal abuse, Lily. You are a sociopath, Lily. Because that’s what sociopaths do. Torture cats.

Jess has gone to the animal shelter now. I hope your traumatizing of her won’t ruin her chances of adoption. She was a perfect cat and would have loved to be your friend, like Alice was. Jess loves dogs, she would not have hurt your chihuahua. If you still have him. If you haven’t murdered him somehow.

I’m looking forward to your death, Lily. I plan to dance on your grave. Because you really, seriously suck. I hear all your kids don’t want to have anything to do with you. Wise move.

I’m a sensible person and don’t make death threats, nor act to hurt people, because I am kind, which you are not. You are merely manipulative, narcissistic, whiny and cat-torturing.

So, not to worry. I’m not going to do anything to you.

Well, other than pointing out that you really, really suck. 

Kitten Update

7 Sep

Kitten Update

Well, all those last kittens did well and went off and got adopted, and Maisie got spayed by the humans of the wonderful Noah’s Ark Shelter here in Carlsbad New Mexico, and she is waiting for a human or humans to appreciate her sweet and loving, albeit mildy growly nature, at our local PetSense. And that’s good.

Meanwhile I have a new batch, Mom Tiger, and children Patrick, Spencer, Alfonse and Bosque. All were left at the overnight drop at the shelter, with a brief note. Kittens then appx four weeks. I assigned them a birthday of July 25, to have a reckoning date.

Angela couldn’t take them because she still had leftover fosters from and with the last mom, at home. Fortunately I was ready to roll, and be rolled upon.

They are all boys. Patrick is the runt, an orange and white marmalade tabby. He’s still a little puny, I watch him.

Alphonse is a tuxedo cat, of the Henri clan.

Spencer is a black kitten and Bosque is a black kitten too. I am in love with Bosque. I had an all-black male kitten like Bosque once in 1987 when we missed with spaying the landlord’s daughter’s kitten Caboodle. Her son, one of four in his litter, grew up into Perfect Guy Cat. Laid-back and fun and totally non-violent.

This is going to be a hard one. I mean, Spenser is a nice kitten, I should work with him more, but whenever I come into the room, there’s Bosque, playing with my feet. 

I’d have to introduce him to Charlotte, though. Charlotte is one of my two adoptees from the first fostering. A couple of nights back, in the morning, I was asleep and Charlotte decided to leap off the counter directly onto my chest.

Charlotte is thirteen months old and well-fed. This is not a small cat.

I woke shrieking, assuming attack and demise. Then I looked at Charlotte, peering at me from the foot of the bed, and somewhat ungently kicked her onto the floor.

I adopted Charlotte originally because I figured humans were not likely to get this cat. I’m not saying I get her. I was just offered a choice, and I didn’t currently have any cats, or reasons not to have cats. 

The current kittens are well into eating solid food and gradually working through their business of pooping everywhere because of the intestinally agitating milk-solid food transition, not to mention the whole litterbox mystery. “Is this a good place to shit? How the fuck do I know?” 

I try to keep it easy. It’s an interesting thing to do, allowing strange nonhumans into your house for a period of several weeks. My house is in two pieces so that makes it easier. One can more easily create boundaries. More doors. More moving things around in carefully orchestrated ways. More obsessing endlessly on these things. Heaven.

It makes for puzzles, I like that. Keeps me occupied. Plus I get points from the cat gods, and this is not to be underrated. We are not the only ones in charge.

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