Poppy and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Our kittens are growing like weeds, but they are still kittens. They get into EVERYTHING.

Yesterday, I pulled out my computer tower because I needed to unplug it to try to coax it back to life. (It has issues.)  I try to start it up (cue the Stones) every few hours. Because I was going to do that, I left it pulled out from under my desk.

For some reason, the kittens decided that playing behind the tower was a fun thing to do. They got yelled at several times, but--they're reckless teens. (That's why we have no guns and motorcycles around here.) Poppy got back there and, usually when I holler, she listens to me and stops her bad behavior, but this time she didn't come out. I hauled the tower out even farther and found she was totally entangled in cords for the computer, the label printer, the Internet, the router--you name it. One of the cords was wrapped around her neck. Needless to say, I panicked but quickly managed to extricate her. Holy crap! My kitten nearly strangled herself!!!

Half an hour later, they had their (second) breakfast. (They get kitty kibble as a snack, then an hour or so later, the REAL breakfast of Friskees.) Soon after Poppy ate her food, she started pawing at her mouth and sounding like she was choking. YIKES! She did this for about ten minutes. She let me look in her mouth, but I couldn't see anything stuck on her teeth.

I called the vet, but got put on hold. While waiting, she stopped the pawing. I got cut off, but decided I was overreaching.  Until ... two hours later, she started doing it again. Now I was getting panicky. What if near strangulation had hurt her throat? She seemed to be breathing a lot faster than her sister when snoozing.

The vet was able to squeeze us in and so off we went. They had a lull and we were sent right in and were relieved that it was our favorite vet who saw Poppy. As soon as I told her about the noise Poppy had made, she went, "Aha." And then she showed us that Poppy already had a couple of her adult teeth, and that her gums were a little red and she had a wiggly tooth, but not wiggly enough to come out. (She tried.) Boy, was I relieved.

I'M A NEW MOM. I PANIC, OKAY?

And just as good, the vet didn't charge us for our little emergency.  (The woman is a saint and a brilliant kitty surgeon.) She said all Poppy needed was a visit from the tooth fairy.

Okay, I've lived around cats all my life, but we weren't around the babies all that much because we worked 8-5. Now, more than 20 years later, we're around them 24/7 and ... honestly, I never saw a kitten teething before.

So, first Poppy nearly got strangled, then her teeth hurt, then she was stuck in a carrier and driven to the (horrors!) vet. Yes, it really was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day for Poppy.  But we gave her extra cookies for Happy Hour and she seems to have overcome her ordeal.

Have you had a panicky moment with your pet?

A DELICATE SUBJECT ...

 They say that a major contributor to global warming is (ahem) cattle farts. Well, in this house there are no cows/steers.

There are kittens. Kittens who fart. Kittens who take great DELIGHT in farting while they are on my lap. Oh, yeah -- they save it up for me. Mr. L laughs because they never fart on him.

Of course, we could change their diet. I know people who have fed their cats the same kibble every day, every meal of their lives. Uh-uh. I'd kill myself if I could only eat one thing for every meal.

Maybe I'm anthropomorphizing the girls, but our boys had definite ideas about what they'd eat. Fred was a tuna boy. Chester preferred shrimp (which Fred wouldn't touch). They preferred fishy food over the other canned foods. The girls gobble everything, which is why Emma has lost her kitten look--she's growing like a weed. (Poppy ... not so much, probably because her sister tries to steal her food. Emma is part piglet.) They do get kibble with their meals for their teeth and urinary tract health.

So ... do your pets pass gas?

(Look at that innocent face. "I didn't fart. I promise, Mum." Yeah, right.)

Our neighbors have DOGS!

About 14 months ago, new neighbors moved in.

They had dogs. Rather big dogs.

Ruh-roh!

When I was five, I got bitten by a wire fox terrier who was just as big as me when he charged and knocked me down. Since then, I've been wary about "big" dogs.

I love dogs. Little dogs. My parents had scotches and Westies and they were pretty much sweet little dogs. Mac (the Scottie and their first) was our favorite, but their last dog, Jessie, was also a sweetheart, and in between was Buddy, who was a joy to walk. I would love to have a dog--preferably a small poodle mix. Supposedly, poodles don't smell when they get wet. But -- Mr. L isn't a dog person. He once was, but I converted him to being a cat person, and now he doesn't want to look back. *Sigh*

And so our neighbors have these largish dogs. We thought that might be a problem, but it turns out it hasn't. Their yard wasn't fenced when we moved in, and the chain-link fence we had wasn't up to code. Mind you, it was grandfathered in, but since the new neighbors also had children--one of whom was only three, we decided to upgrade our fence. Oooba-dooba -- that was a headache, and incredibly expensive. Even worse, they said they could do the fence in one day. They didn't. So there was our in-ground pool EXPOSED for more than 24 hours and there was a small child next door. (The dogs had been going out on leashes for their outdoor visits.) Finally the fence was in, but the gate was not. I'm a born worrier, so that was another headache. Finally, the gate and fence were finished. And a few weeks later, the neighbors finished off fencing their yard on both sides of the house.  Looks very nice.

That's when they started letting their dogs loose in the yard, and since then we have had hours of entertainment.

These are very quiet dogs. So when we hear them bark, we know they mean business.  Usually there's a squirrel (or some other animal) on the other side of the big fence at the back of their yard, which the previous owner put in as a wind break. When we hear them bark, we usually look out the window. Yup--one of them has barked to say, "We're cold! Let us in." Sure enough, a few seconds later, the back door opens and dogs go inside with their tales wagging incredibly fast.  Sometimes we see them wrestling in the snow. The other day, I was clearing the driveway and one of them (Lucy) came bounding up to the fence to warn me not to intrude on her territory. I told her, "Good dog!" She kind of blinked and said, "Oh, okay" and then ran back to play with her pack-mate.

Next time I get a chance to talk to the neighbors, I'm going to ask if it would be okay for me to give them dog biscuits. I'd like to make friends with them.

Meanwhile, here's a picture of one of our new kittens, Poppy. Isn't she adorable? (Um, for some reason she thinks she can help me write. She also likes to sit on my mouse which is uncomfortable for both of us.) It's okay if Mr. L has become a cat person. It really is.

Are you a dog or cat (or other animal) person?

Our New Kittens: The Whole Story

It's been almost a year since Mr. L and I had cats.  We lost our boys last March, 12 days apart, and were devastated. We weren't ready for kitties for a long time. In fact, although we had looked at a number of cats and kitten (21 in one day) we didn't find our forever furbabies, and truthfully we really weren't ready. Unfortunately, our boys had developed a bad habit of marking their territory. It was only the last year of their lives that this happened, but the damage was done.  We pulled the carpet and had to repair the floor. The carpet to the back door was also marked. (We've yet to address that situation.)

Last weekend, we were determined to find kitties. The local Humane Society had been sending me 4 or 5 emails a day saying they were overwhelmed with cats and kittens.  So, we kitten-proofed portions of the house and on Saturday went to find some. Only ... when we got to Lollipop Farm, not only was there only one cat available, but there was a mob of people looking to adopt cats. They had a "Valentine's Day Special" and had slashed the price of cat adoption and had already "moved" 25 cats during the three hours they had been open. We were crushed. (I cried.)

So I posted my frustration on Facebook and one of my readers, who happens to be a kitty foster Mom, send me a message. We went back and forth and arranged to meet Mooch-Mooch and Sepi. (*Shudder* Who came up with those names? Foster Mom strongly encouraged me to change them -- which was a no brainer.)

It was kind of funny. The pet store has no dedicated "meeting room" to get to know cats, so we had to gather in the store's (very clean) bathroom. Kind of like a clandestine drug deal. Of course, they captured our hearts in just about an instant. They were a little younger than we had planned on (but not by much, they're 13 weeks old), and they came home with us.  We named them Pippa and Poppy.

They were TERRIFIED. Why not? We were two GIANT strangers. The first night, they ran around for about an hour, and we put them in the laundry room (out came the baby gates once again) and decided to let them get acclimated to that room first. They'll be staying there at night for a few weeks until we introduce them to the whole house.

Yesterday, they spent the day with us in our connecting offices and it sounded like a herd of elephants were racing around. They have a LOT of energy. And like all teenagers, they are HUNGRY all the time! They didn't get tuckered out until last afternoon. We have a rambling ranch house and we  thought we'd let them run around last night, but they were terrified by all that open space. (They really are very little girls.) So back into the laundry room they went, and they were pretty fine about that. Tonight we're going to introduce them to another "confined environment" to see how they do.

Foster Mom warned me I might not get much word done with kittens in our offices.

She was right.

But there have been more smiles in this house in the past few days hours than there have been for eleven months. I'd say that was a pretty good outcome.