No more cat posts. After this one.
Thanks so much for your comments over the last couple of posts. I promise, one last cat post, and then it's back to makin' stuff. Well, attempting to make stuff.
One quick point about my last post; it's not really that three cats or four cats are enough cats - it's just that I think I have the soul of an animal hoarder, and The Hotness is the same as me, or perhaps worse. I think we could probably live quite happily with 90 cats.
And 40 dogs. And some sheep and goats. And maybe a piglet, because I LOVE bacon. Not that I would eat my piglet, but at least I'd be doing my part to balance the bacon I eat against the bacon I feed. And now that I've said that, I have to add that I would also not eat any of my other animals, because I'd love them, too, even though I don't love lamb or dog meat. This paragraph has really taken a turn for the worse.
Anyway, if I don't put a limit on it, we're going to be one of those couples you see in the news who've built themselves a little shed on the back of their property to live in, while their 110 cats live in their 2000 square foot home, and they both work full time to bring home kibble and catnip.
I figured I'd give you one last kitten update, because in my imagination, y'all are on the edge of your seats, and lost sleep last night wondering about him. And I'm a fairy princess. And I don't have one lingering cankle from the fall off my deck. Hey, it's my imagination, so I can imagine whatever I want!
In order to get the kitten's pet insurance (all our cats are insured), I had to pick a name for him. I liked the name "Beethoven", as Summerset suggested, but when I ran it by The Hotness, he stared at me like I'd lost my mind - I think if I'd suggested Axl or Slash, I might have gotten a better response. Thus, The Kitten With No Name has been officially (and unimaginatively) designated as "Dinger" because he'll spend the rest of his furry life wearing a bell on his collar so we can find him. In reality, we'll probably end up calling him Kitty, or Cat, or GAHHH-getawayfromthere!!, because as Marjie said, he won't know or care, and as the joke says, he won't come when we call anyway.
Contrary to what most folks think, all our other cats are happy to come when called; heck, The Hotness even taught Bonzo to play dead. I'm not kidding - he points his finger and yells "Bang!" and she falls over and lays still, then he yells "Bang!" again and she rolls over and meows as though she's been shot again. I need to record that, one of these days. One of the days when my house is clean enough that I won't mind having pictures of it on the internet. About two days after hell freezes over, I guess.
Anyway, Dinger's doing pretty well - The Hotness was sick as a dog yesterday, so we spent the day crashed out on the couch watching movies, which suited Dinger just fine.
Today I'll need to run into town to pick up some kitten formula; he's very emaciated, as you can see from this picture - ignore the bum, and check out those hips and ribs! And that backbone! Cripes, you could slice cheese with that thing!
He's happy eating the hard food I've got for him, though strangely, he wasn't interested in the wet food at all, but with a high kitten metabolism, I don't think he'll be able to eat enough hard food to get to a healthy weight without formula.
Gaylen - yeah, The Hotness is allergic to cats, too, but that didn't stop him from already having three when we first met. He isn't allergic to dogs, but we don't have any of those yet. I stress the "yet" - as soon as he gets our fence up, I'm getting him the black lab he's been talking about for four years.
Karen - The Hotness is smitten by the kitten. When I called him to let him know that I'd emailed someone about a dirty, starved, deaf kitten, he got all excited, and called me every ten minutes for the next two hours to see if she'd emailed me back yet. Of course, he doesn't call it "excited," just "mildly interested, whatever". When she finally called and we made arrangements for me to pick Dinger up, The Hotness called every ten minutes until I actually had him, then quit work early and met me at home. But not because he cared about the new kitten, just 'cause he was tired, you know? Wink wink.
The rest of the cat-family (pride is as good a word as any IMO) is staying neutral. Except Smooshy, who's kind of angry/scared. Boobah and Bonzo both visited us on the bed last night (where Dinger was laying), although only briefly, but Smooshy is kind of unhappy. I've been picking her up and petting her and giving her lots of attention, but she's got no interest in Dinger at all. Meh, give it a week and they'll all be fighting over the catnip mice.
Before I sign off, here are a couple of gratuitous Dinger shots.
One quick point about my last post; it's not really that three cats or four cats are enough cats - it's just that I think I have the soul of an animal hoarder, and The Hotness is the same as me, or perhaps worse. I think we could probably live quite happily with 90 cats.
And 40 dogs. And some sheep and goats. And maybe a piglet, because I LOVE bacon. Not that I would eat my piglet, but at least I'd be doing my part to balance the bacon I eat against the bacon I feed. And now that I've said that, I have to add that I would also not eat any of my other animals, because I'd love them, too, even though I don't love lamb or dog meat. This paragraph has really taken a turn for the worse.
Anyway, if I don't put a limit on it, we're going to be one of those couples you see in the news who've built themselves a little shed on the back of their property to live in, while their 110 cats live in their 2000 square foot home, and they both work full time to bring home kibble and catnip.
I figured I'd give you one last kitten update, because in my imagination, y'all are on the edge of your seats, and lost sleep last night wondering about him. And I'm a fairy princess. And I don't have one lingering cankle from the fall off my deck. Hey, it's my imagination, so I can imagine whatever I want!
In order to get the kitten's pet insurance (all our cats are insured), I had to pick a name for him. I liked the name "Beethoven", as Summerset suggested, but when I ran it by The Hotness, he stared at me like I'd lost my mind - I think if I'd suggested Axl or Slash, I might have gotten a better response. Thus, The Kitten With No Name has been officially (and unimaginatively) designated as "Dinger" because he'll spend the rest of his furry life wearing a bell on his collar so we can find him. In reality, we'll probably end up calling him Kitty, or Cat, or GAHHH-getawayfromthere!!, because as Marjie said, he won't know or care, and as the joke says, he won't come when we call anyway.
Contrary to what most folks think, all our other cats are happy to come when called; heck, The Hotness even taught Bonzo to play dead. I'm not kidding - he points his finger and yells "Bang!" and she falls over and lays still, then he yells "Bang!" again and she rolls over and meows as though she's been shot again. I need to record that, one of these days. One of the days when my house is clean enough that I won't mind having pictures of it on the internet. About two days after hell freezes over, I guess.
Anyway, Dinger's doing pretty well - The Hotness was sick as a dog yesterday, so we spent the day crashed out on the couch watching movies, which suited Dinger just fine.
Today I'll need to run into town to pick up some kitten formula; he's very emaciated, as you can see from this picture - ignore the bum, and check out those hips and ribs! And that backbone! Cripes, you could slice cheese with that thing!
Gaylen - yeah, The Hotness is allergic to cats, too, but that didn't stop him from already having three when we first met. He isn't allergic to dogs, but we don't have any of those yet. I stress the "yet" - as soon as he gets our fence up, I'm getting him the black lab he's been talking about for four years.
Karen - The Hotness is smitten by the kitten. When I called him to let him know that I'd emailed someone about a dirty, starved, deaf kitten, he got all excited, and called me every ten minutes for the next two hours to see if she'd emailed me back yet. Of course, he doesn't call it "excited," just "mildly interested, whatever". When she finally called and we made arrangements for me to pick Dinger up, The Hotness called every ten minutes until I actually had him, then quit work early and met me at home. But not because he cared about the new kitten, just 'cause he was tired, you know? Wink wink.
The rest of the cat-family (pride is as good a word as any IMO) is staying neutral. Except Smooshy, who's kind of angry/scared. Boobah and Bonzo both visited us on the bed last night (where Dinger was laying), although only briefly, but Smooshy is kind of unhappy. I've been picking her up and petting her and giving her lots of attention, but she's got no interest in Dinger at all. Meh, give it a week and they'll all be fighting over the catnip mice.
Before I sign off, here are a couple of gratuitous Dinger shots.
If this were a lolcat picture, it'd be tagged "I can haz up?" We have a really high bed, so it's quite the climb. I put up our cat-stairs, but he seems to enjoy staring at me until I lift him up, or else just using his claws to scale the side of the bed.
Bony and bigheaded. And I don't know if his legs look long because he's so emaciated, or if he's just going to be a tall cat, but when he stands still, he looks like an imperial walker.
Labels: dinger
Awww - he's so cute! We'd be crazy cat people, too, if we didn't have kids. My husband freely admits he'd be the crazy cat guy if he was single.
We now refer to our cats as "the girls", since we only have Kiwi and Pix left since Max, my lover boy kitty, died in May. We used to refer to the three of them as "the herd". We're thinking of adopting yet another cat, a boy this time.
Have you tried giving Dinger chicken baby food? It might tempt him to eat something moist. Most feral kittens love it because of the strong smell. Kiwi did, and that's how we got her to trust us and actually eat. She'd sit in our laps and lick it off a spoon. You can then mix it in proportions with regular canned food to wean him off of it and onto something more appropriate for a cat.
Yeah, I have a houseful of crazy animal people. Except the time I suggested we get a cow so I didn't have to buy 15 gallons of milk per week (and that was for real!). No one wanted the damn cow. If I didn't set limits, I'd have a hundred cats, 30 or 40 dogs, and whatever the kids could drag home. Yeah, I'm just keeping my 265 pound dog and telling them all he's easily worth 25 or 30 cats.
Dinger is getting cuter, and we'll be happy to see progress photos interspersed with wedding dress photos!
Little Dude is stinking cute! What a great idea about using formula to get weight on him. Every year someone dumps kittens out here, so that tidbit of info could save somekittehs life.