Oops, unlike Gigolo when I first started feeding him, doesn't live in our yard. Around dusk most nights she'll show up meowing for food, but during the day, no amount of "here kitty" and shaking her food bowl will make her come. I haven't completely decided whether to bring her in the house, but there are so many unwanted cats in this neighborhood that I'm starting to feel irresponsible for feeding an un-fixed stray. I need to get her fixed before she gets pregnant and there are even more starving kittens.
So tonight when she arrived for her dusk feeding, I put her bowl down. Then I ran to the garage and put together a litter box and a water bowl. Then I took her food bowl away and carried it into the garage. And Oops, poor, trusting Oops, followed me into the garage. I pushed the garage door button. She ran towards the street until I stopped the garage door and coaxed her back. This time when I started the door, I grabbed her and held on. She squirmed and struggled, but didn't bite or claw, and when the door was almost closed I let her go. She ran at that door so hard it started opening again. I pushed her down again and finished shutting the door. I let her go when the door was closed and she took off, somewhere in the bikes and picnic gear and tools in the garage. Goodness knows where she got to, I looked for a while but didn't find her again. I let myself out through the side door.
THEN, in a bit of brilliant timing, I came inside and looked online. The San Antonio free spay and neuter program is closed Mondays. You need an appointment anyways, so I've locked her in the garage for the indefinite future. I'm a terrible person. A cat napper. And in half an hour I'm taking her food away, just in case our vet has an appointment for surgery tomorrow. I've put her in kitty Sing-Sing.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Oops I did it again
For the last week, I've been out of the house between 8:30am and 6:30pm. This doesn't exactly mean I've got a job, but it sorta does, and my brain hurts thinking about it so I'm not going to try to write down what exactly is happening. The government's fiscal year ends later this month and things will return to the status quo. Whee.
But my being out of the house has had a very annoying consequence, which is that when I get home at 6:30 and just want to sit on the couch for half an hour, it's more irritating than I can say to be sneak attacked and bit by a playful cat. After being alone all day Gigolo's got all kinds of energy, biting energy, and I'm still allergic enough to get hives when he does. I've pretty much decided to dump him back out on the streets he came from, but he's so stupidly fat at this point that the other street cats would look at him like a chew toy. So Ed suggested that we get him a playmate, another cat to keep him company. I ignored him. Gigolo alone is enough trouble without getting him a partner in crime.
Then, last Saturday we were coming home late and there was a tiny cat in the driveway. I bent down and he came running right over, weaving between my legs and jumping into my lap. When I picked him up his poor little bones were poking through his skin, so I looked at Ed. Ed just shrugged, "If you feed him, you've adopted him." The little cat meowed at that very moment, and I heard him say, "yes, adopt me! I'm so tiny and cute!" So I fed him on the back porch, out of the same containers Gigolo first used. I petted the little buddy some more and came inside to bed.
The next morning before I even got out of bed I groaned. Oops, I adopted another cat. For goodness' sake! I do not need another cat!
But Oops the cat was nowhere to be seen. That was Saturday, and he didn't come around again until yesterday. He's even skinnier, and even more meow-y, and even more desperate to be touched and held. I fed him again.
Ed says I CANNOT name any more pets, and that Oops is NOT this cat's name. And if it is his name, Oops is NOT living in the house. He wants a cat named Lucky, or Kitty, or something NORMAL.
But my being out of the house has had a very annoying consequence, which is that when I get home at 6:30 and just want to sit on the couch for half an hour, it's more irritating than I can say to be sneak attacked and bit by a playful cat. After being alone all day Gigolo's got all kinds of energy, biting energy, and I'm still allergic enough to get hives when he does. I've pretty much decided to dump him back out on the streets he came from, but he's so stupidly fat at this point that the other street cats would look at him like a chew toy. So Ed suggested that we get him a playmate, another cat to keep him company. I ignored him. Gigolo alone is enough trouble without getting him a partner in crime.
Then, last Saturday we were coming home late and there was a tiny cat in the driveway. I bent down and he came running right over, weaving between my legs and jumping into my lap. When I picked him up his poor little bones were poking through his skin, so I looked at Ed. Ed just shrugged, "If you feed him, you've adopted him." The little cat meowed at that very moment, and I heard him say, "yes, adopt me! I'm so tiny and cute!" So I fed him on the back porch, out of the same containers Gigolo first used. I petted the little buddy some more and came inside to bed.
The next morning before I even got out of bed I groaned. Oops, I adopted another cat. For goodness' sake! I do not need another cat!
But Oops the cat was nowhere to be seen. That was Saturday, and he didn't come around again until yesterday. He's even skinnier, and even more meow-y, and even more desperate to be touched and held. I fed him again.
Ed says I CANNOT name any more pets, and that Oops is NOT this cat's name. And if it is his name, Oops is NOT living in the house. He wants a cat named Lucky, or Kitty, or something NORMAL.
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