Something I forgot to mention about the disasters of last weekend - The Man is highly allergic to citrus fruits. He can't be in a room that has been cleaned with citrus oil cleaners, for example. I was fully aware of that, but just before he arrived at the hotel, I had peeled and eaten an orange, and the peels were in the wastebasket. He took two steps into the room, and choked.
If I ever hear from him again, I'll be impressed with his level of tolerance.
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A commenter asked about my reference to my first daughter. I'd had three first-trimester miscarriages, and then a pregnancy that looked like it was going to make it. We had only a few weeks to go when a "challenged" young woman who liked to see fire engines set fire to my building. It was a slow smokey fire in the storage room beneath my apartment. I suffered some smoke inhalation, and Mary Elizabeth was stillborn the next day, January 27, 1967.
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I'm probably going to put on some weight this week. Friday was a classy restaurant dinner on a patio with a view, with The Man. Saturday was a good solid meal in a country hotel with Daughter, Hercules, and The Man. Sunday was a long slow dinner in an Irish restaurant with Roman. Today was sushi with Zig, FirstWoman, Angie, Nate, Julia, and Roman. Wednesday I'll have lunch with Piper. Thursday is lunch with FirstWoman, followed by dinner with the gang.
That's the tentative plans, anyway, subject to emergency expeditions to NJ for kitten rescue (or for anyone who might want to demonstrate tolerance).
I learned a few things tonight:
I like sushi.
Wasabi doesn't bother me like jalapenos do.
I like cold sake.
No one should ever let me drink sake again.
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Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention the kitten. There's a feral cat who raises her kittens in a large deep window well at Daughter's apartment building. It's a safe place where the kittens can't get out until they're big, and nothing else is likely to go in, and there are window grills the kitties can hide behind. Last year, there was one especially pretty one that I said I would be willing to adopt when it was old enough. Well, about the same time Daughter figured it was time, the mother cat moved them. They disappeared.
During last Thursday's phone call, Daughter mentioned that there's another litter looking ready, and asked if I wanted one. I said I don't know, I'd want to see them and pick one, because Miss Thunderfoot would have a fit, so I'd have to really want it. Then she said "Oh. I'll call you back in a few seconds." And she hung up. I thought she'd got another call. Forty minutes passed, so I called her. She and Hercules had spent that time capturing a kitten for me. Duh?
She wanted to bring it to me Saturday. I pointed out that it wouldn't be safe in the car all day, and I couldn't take it into the hotel that night (especially THAT hotel, they already think I'm dangerous), so they'd have to keep it until I could pick it up.
I was shocked when I saw the two of them on Saturday. They were both covered in deep scratches. They've captured a demon cat for me. Hercules wants it GONE, now! So....
The kitten. He/she looks so scared.
6 comments:
Cat expert, here. Of course the kitten is scared, but she can be helped. Tell Daughter in the meantime to love up this kitten every waking minute. It's so important that a kitten be handled a lot, especially one from a feral mother. One of my favorite things to do with kittens is to hold them on my chest, just under my chin, while sitting on the sofa watching TV. Kitten usually goes limp and sleeps in a matter of minutes.
Also, put a towel or warm blanky in the bathroom, probably behind the toilet. She'll feel secure there.
In the meantime, there are also plenty of rescue organizations who will help Daughter do the trap, neuter, release thing with Mama Cat.
PS - It is not a demon cat. It's terrified. Really, tell Daughter to spend time with the kitten. And if she can't, take the kitten to the vet for a couple of days where it will be wormed (if old enough, doesn't look it from these photos) and the staff will spend a lot of time petting her.
She does look scared, but it sounds like Becs has it all wrapped up. Have you picked a name for her yet?
Daughter mentioned a name she's using, but I didn't catch it. I sort of suspect that she sort of hopes to keep it for herself. Her cat, a big Maine Coon she'd had since childhood, died a year or so ago, and I think she misses him. He was a real lover, a "bulldog in a cat suit", a Harley biker cat. Hercules brought a cat to the union, but she's not very friendly, not a snuggler by a long shot. So I may or may not get the kitten.
My theory is that you don't name a cat, anyway. You wait a while, and it names itself.
I have a feeling that Daughter's keeping the kitten would be copacetic with Miss Thunderfoot...
Wow, what a horrible way to lose a pregnancy.
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