That Evil Furball….So we ended up taking her back to the vet, who put 5 staples in her to keep her put together.

She’s chewed out 2 1/2. How does she do this??? Doesn’t it hurt?

Guess we’ll have to duct tape her after all.

Can you just feel the sarcasm dripping down my page?? It’s there I assure you.

This morning I woke up to rain. That’s fine, I love it when it rains.  But not when I have things to do.

I came downstairs and looked at Evil Furball’s stitches…and saw her intestines. Nice…gotta call the vet and get her restitched. But first, I had to get my car to the dealer for it’s first new-car maintenance done.  We took both cars, (he drove his, I drove mine) because the plan was to just leave it there and have it picked up later.  Then the dealer told us it would only be an hour…so then what?? We went for a nice country drive. Then Pierce had to go potty, so we drove back into town and stopped at a store. Paul and Pierce came back out with breakfast (we hadn’t had time to eat) of Nutter-Butters and M&M’s. They were peanut, so at least Pierce had something healhty.

Anyway, we picked up my car and came home. I called the vet…no answer. So what am I supposed to do…use duct tape on the cat??? Grrrr….

Oh, and to top it off (can you tell I’m a bit ornery??), by back is so sore! I worked out yesterday, doing things I hadn’t done in a year…I forgot I had muscles back there.

And the boy just got his head stuck in the kitty crate.

This is definitely the makings of a migraine.

Knew you’d look.

I picked up our kitten, Jasmine, aka Evil Furball, up from the vet yesterday. As rotten as she can be, I feel bad for her! We had her spayed, declawed, feline leukemia tested, and 4 shots done. She’s up and walking, but not the happiest cat I’ve seen!

But we’ll all be better for it…she won’t get squirted for scratching the couches, poor little Dean won’t get his toes bitten, Squeaky Chicken won’t have his bed peed in anymore (hopefully), and Gab’s hands won’t look like she’s been playing with a barbed-wire fence.

This is the kitten Paul brought home from work. One of his coworkers came up to him and told him maintenance found 4 tiny kittens and were about to throw them away (heartless redneck hicks!!!). One was already dead from starvation. The coworker knew we’re animal-lovers, so she knew Paul would take one.   Jasmine  was almost 2 weeks old, judging from her eyes and walking (she wasn’t). We really didn’t think she’d make it…she was totally bony, you could feel every one. It was so sad! I put her in a cat bed next to me on my bed for the next few nights (so I could feed her at night) and every morning; I didn’t think she’d be alive each day. But she made it. I bottle-fed her for 4 weeks (5 or 6 times a day) then taught her to eat canned cat food, then dry. Squeaky Chicken taught her to drink out of a dish…I wasn’t about to do that. (He had to b/c the other 2 cats wouldn’t go near her. )

And now she’s about 6 months old and a very normal, healthy, wild kitten! It’s nice to have her home again.