I did opt for the one with Found Animals. It is easy to use and it helps to update it periodically with photos, medical info, etc. It’s a good precautionary measure, but the few lost animals I have found either had tags or didn’t, so I do think it’s especially important for an ID tag if you have a dog and obviously, if you’re going to let your cat(s) come and go as they please, a good tag is inexpensive when you factor in your own peace of mind.
Why Vets Are Getting Away With Murder
*I think I’ve been lucky to find a vet that isn’t pushing vaccinations. If I skip a year, she tells me it’s ok. In fact, we’ve spoken about it and only a few are mandatory if your pet needs a license. Beyond that, it’s your choice. Obviously dogs exposed to other dogs probably need more vaccinations, just to be on the safe side. I do not own a dog, so I cannot speak for dog owners or their thoughts. I can only speak as a pet owner. I don’t believer in obsessing and over-vaccinating. In fact, I think it’s a lot healthier not to.*
Hello WordPress peeps. Thank you for welcoming me into my Mommy’s life. 🙂 She has told me all about many of you, and she also told me I have many fans requesting photos of me as I continue to grow, and that I need to own up to my modeling contract. I don’t know what that means because I am still a baby and I just want to eat, play, sleep, bite people’s toes, and play some more.
I was surrendered to an animal shelter in the late summer months when I was born. I do not know why. Mommy says it makes her angry, but that she is glad “the idiots” at least had the foresight to bring me someplace safe where I could get proper medical care and the chance of a good home. Mommy has no patience for morons. I’ve heard her tell people off on the phone. I like to be underfoot when she’s on the phone, you just never know what you’ll hear! Mommy has one voice for me, all soft and sweet, and another voice for everyone else. Unless you’re a kitten or a baby, I recommend playing dumb, but you should also know that Mommy will see right through that.
I was put into foster care with my siblings almost as soon as I opened my eyes, which means I was taken away from my biological Mommy way too soon. Kittens need to be weaned, not thrown into shelters!
I shared a foster home with three “big cats”, a huge pitbull, and there were always lots of kittens younger, my age, or older to play with. I did very well with everyone, as I am very well socialized. I was there the longest of all my foster mother’s foster kittens because she loved me best. 🙂 She also wanted to make sure I got the very best home possible. She was strongly considering keeping me, I think, until she got a phone call inquiring about my availability.
One day “new Mommy” called “foster Mommy”, and in less than a few days, I had a new home. Imagine a tiny kittens’ shock and surprise!
On the day in question, “new Mommy” walked into the house. I was walking on the kitchen counter at the time and immediately greeted her. I like to be perched in places above ground, so that I can look down upon my subjects. She lowered herself slightly to my level so I could smell her. I thought “What kind of cat is THIS? Where is her tail?! Oooh, she has pretty hair. I bet she’ll let me bite it.” She spoke to me and gave me a little head scratch. Her nails are nice and sharp, and took away my kitty cat itches, so I let foster Mommy know that it was ok if I went home with her. I liked her coat and her purse, and even though she told me I couldn’t play with expensive things, she was kind and gentle, and I felt safe.
After a short period of time where the humans conversed and laughed, foster Mommy gave me kisses and told me I was going to have a great life. I was put into a kitty carrier that my new Mommy had thought to put warm blankets in, and away we went.
About an hour and forty-five minutes later (I had to ask Mommy about the timing. It was dark and the GPS got us lost. I know this because the heat was on and Mommy kept saying “Why is such an expensive part of this county SO FUCKING DARK AT NIGHT?! Can’t they afford lights?!”), I was brought into my new home.
Mommy showed me where everything was, from my litter box to my fancy food and water bowls, and my new “cat space”. I ate, I drank, and then Mommy put me into “my bed”. It’s a lot bigger than me, but I quickly learned I am meant to share this bed with Mommy. Who made this decision? Exactly who said this little kitten wants to share? I did not agree to this arrangement, so I bites toes for entertainment value. I can get away with this because I am “just a baby”. I heard Mommy say so.
After a few hours, I decided to settle in for a nap and where better to nap than my new Mommy’s lap while she tap-tap-taps on her computer? Occasionally, even now, I reach up and smack her hands to remind her that I’m here, and that the computer isn’t so exciting or interesting. And that my little ears need to be scratched. She will stop singing, writing, and doing whatever it is she’s doing that makes her laugh, and tell me how great I am, what a good kitty, such a sweet little soul, such a good little friend. She tells me that as I get older, we will be besties, whatever that means. For now, she is my warm cuddle buddy and my best playmate. I secretly believe she is a cat and that I cannot find her tail. I know, because I’ve looked.
I am happy in my new home, though I have already made it clear that I need little playmates, siblings if you will, or I will continue to attack Mommy’s feet, ankles, knees, socks, and anything else I can get my little baby paws on. Mommy is not amused when I climb on top of the vacuum cleaner and just sit there. She actually suggested I do some house work. I smacked my new Uncle’s feet recently, just to keep him in his place. Mommy encouraged me to do this, telling me it would make him feel “loved and important”. Yes, she’s silly, but she’s also very interesting to watch.
What can I tell you about my Mommy that you don’t already know? She loves me, hugs me, cuddles me, gives me kisses, feeds me, plays with me, talks to me, gives me yummy treatsies, tells me what a good girl I am, grooms me, cleans my ears, cleans my face, wipes my eyes so I don’t develop “tear stains”, and tells me NO when I climb things. She tells me “I am responsible for you. I have to make sure you’re safe and healthy.” She cuts my nails when I am asleep, so I don’t get agitated. Isn’t that sweet? Sometimes, but not always, she will spritz me with water to get the NO to stick, especially if I’ve been doing something I already know I shouldn’t be doing, like attacking Mommy’s books. I heard her talking about this the other day and she said it was a “cat behavior” trick.
Mommy has no idea how well trained she is. All I have to do is glance in her general direction and she’ll go and check my food and water bowls. If I want wet food, all I have to do is bump her legs when she’s in the kitchen and she will ask if I am hungry. She tells me I have to meow, but if I chirp at her or squeak, she accepts that. If I want my toys, I sit on the stairs and stare at her and give her “disapproving cat face”, and she immediately knows that I want my feather ball, or one of my other new toys. I bring them back to her and she’ll throw them back and forth for me while I run up and down the stairs. Secretly, I think Mommy really likes this game.
My favorite game, other than my feather ball, is the feather wand. Mommy will try to exhaust me with it, but often has to say “No more today baby girl, Mommy is too sick to play with you right now.” I don’t know what that means, so some days I cuddle into Mommy to let her know I am listening. I cuddle in and I purr, and I am rewarded with love, kisses, chin scratches, belly rubs, and praise.
A little over a month ago I was a kitten without a forever home. Today I am a four month old “little monkey” with a loving Mommy that is very attentive, with menfolk that show me affection (especially Uncle), a warm place to be, always, and full reign of the house. All I want for the new year is friends to play with. I do like being the sole kitty of the house, but I also miss Mommy when she goes away and she says it’s not nice to knock everything off her dresser. Apparently she is very attached to that perfume she wears and doesn’t like seeing “My expensive bottles on the floor, Verity!!” Sometimes I nap, sometimes I climb. Ok, so I climb more than I nap. I’m just a little baby.
Please encourage Mommy to find me two friends. They have to be my size or smaller, they have to like to play a lot, they have to like laying in Mommy’s lap with me watching movies or TV (Just because I am named after a Bond Girl that was only in one scene, that doesn’t mean I want to watch Skyfall. I don’t care how attractive Mommy finds Daniel Craig. What happened to her “No watching married men.” rule?” Of course, I realize this means she’d never be able to watch TV or movies ever again, but I am willing to overlook this if she gets me friends.), and they have to do silly things so that Mommy will laugh her musical laugh, and play with us, instead of saying “Does EVERY MORNING have to start with blood shed?” Even though Mommy clipped my nails, I really think someone ought to clip hers. I am pretty sure her fangs are bigger than mine too.
These are my tiny kitten observations. I hope you’ve enjoyed my story. And please, for the love of all that is holy, DON’T SHOP, ADOPT.
Yes, I am REALLY this cute.
I’ve definitely been ‘Missing In Action’ for a bit, and for that I apologize. This is a particularly difficult time of year for me to start with, made harder by the fact that I’m going through some unhappy things in my daily life, and to add insult to injury, I am coming down with something. The severe temperature drop after the second round of snow hit me like a ton of bricks, and we’re about to get more snow. I was so completely out of it for a while, and I’m slowly trying to get myself back to a place of not wanting to sleep 18 hours a day. Top that off with the fact that I am showing signs of severe allergy to my kitten (Shh,. don’t tell her, she’d be heartbroken.)! The allergic reaction is slowly starting to heal, and I am praying that’s ALL it was, though I strongly suspect she was not fully treated for something at the shelter and I caught it. Lucky me! Who knew how many weird things could be passed from cat to human?! Normally I’m the one calling my vet to make sure I can’t accidentally give the cat whatever I happen to have. Setting aside the fact that I suffer from migraines and Fibromyalgia, I am actually pretty healthy, but every once in a while something weird rears its ugly head and knocks me out for a while. I have wanted to do nothing, but sleep and rest my pained body this week.
On an entertaining note, I get a phone call at 4:30 this morning from an, as yet, unidentified male in my life. I want to sell him on Ebay at this point, especially after this morning’s antics.
I have been utterly hounded by this person for the past three and a half days over what they should or should not wear to a job interview. How many times can one try on a suit for me with different shirts after I have repeatedly said “Solid white or cream colored shirt. Solid colored tie.” That’s the most simple, direct instruction in the world, right? With a black pinstripe suit, too many additional lines is overkill, yes?
At exactly 10:45 this morning, while I was sleeping no less, a striped white shirt and striped tie were unceremoniously shoved in my face with the question “These are good, right?” Why the fuck did you ask me AT ALL if you were just going to do what you usually do, which is NOT LISTEN?! I responded by saying, not in my most polite of tones, “I said to get a plain shirt and a solid colored tie. I said it repeatedly. What part of that did you not understand? By the way, I am SLEEPING. I will deal with you later.” I might have even said “Get the fuck out of my face right now.”, which is about as kind as I can be when you’re disrupting my sleep with nonsense that could have waited until I was my normal, functioning self. I admit, my “normal, functioning self” isn’t the textbook version of “normal”, but hey, he knows me well enough to know NOT to pull these stunts.
Men, I am going to give you severely important advice right now, so listen closely. Do not EVER ask a woman if she’s “on her period” simply because she doesn’t give you a sweet, loving response on no sleep. I’m not your mother. I do not have to pick out your clothes for you, wipe your ass, change your diaper, or anything else a mother would do for you. I am also NOT a bitch simply because you chose the wrong time to approach me with what is somehow SO unbelievably important that you feel the need to call me at 4:30 in the morning, later agreeing that I should go with you in a day or two to pick out the shirt and tie so that you will look nice, and then getting a hair up your ass and doing the wrong thing, only to wake me with said items about four inches from my face. The lines were so distracting, I’ve never seen a cat take off so fast in my life! She was laying here so innocently getting her beauty rest when, she too, is barraged by fashion. I haven’t seen the poor thing since!
In all honesty, I think she’s still scarred from the hour or so she spent in the laundry room this morning after my 4:30 phone call. I warned her not to follow me, I even shooed her out of the room several times as I was putting my stuff into the dryer. I went back to what I was doing after that, but about 40 minutes later, I couldn’t find her. I walked around calling for her, because she comes trotting in my direction from wherever she may have been or goes flying after me when she hears my voice. She doesn’t respond so much to her name, as she does to the fact that she hears me and knows she is being summoned to follow when she hears me say “Where’s Mommy’s baby? I can’t find you.” Or she just hears my voice and comes running for the sake of getting to run around like a hell hound, who knows.
Now normally, I don’t go back into the laundry room once the dryer is finished because I know my stuff is dry and these particular items did not need to be folded or require any immediate after care. I only went in because I’d washed one of my football jackets and wanted to be 100% sure that sucker was dry. I didn’t want to have to re-wash it because I walked away too quickly. Mind you, this little baby is still very small and does not have a real voice yet. She has a barely audible squeak, and you only hear it if she does it right at you or you are really quiet and happen to hear her voicing her issues, whatever those issues may be at any given moment. I opened the door and she came flying out, running into my arms for warmth and safety. The laundry room is the only unheated room in the house. My guess is that is the case because it was added on to the house, and is not a part of the original structure. This is precisely why I didn’t want her in there to begin with. There’s always something dangerous that someone so tiny can get into, and by the way she has been following me around since “the ordeal”, I’m praying she learned her lesson and will never do that again. I spent the entire time calling for her and honestly thought she was under the bed or in another room ignoring me, as she is wont to do at times. As loving, needy, sweet, playful, and affectionate as she is, she is also an independent seeker of trouble. I say “No!” roughly 100 times a day, or more. Now that I think about it, it’s similar to how I talk to unidentified male. Coincidence? I think NOT. On the plus side, at least she’s civilized.
“The smallest feline is a masterpiece.” ―Leonardo da Vinci
Da Vinci was, indeed, correct. This little masterpiece is all mine. 🙂 In typical predatory fashion, she’s murdering a feather wand. She’s not happy about the camera, but once she was distracted by the wand, I was able to take some good shots of her. My troublesome little minx.
My little baby has officially received her name. 🙂
I was hoping to post it with a really good photo, but the little skunk keeps fussing with me every time I take a picture of her. She’ll take off the second she sees the camera, or she’ll get nose to nose with the lens and I’ll have to delete the photo. She’s always in action. I’ve got a bunch of photos of her sleeping, and a few with her eyes rolled back while awake, so it looks like there’s something wrong with her. There isn’t, unless you count the fact that she was climbing around my head this morning and damn near gave me a nose piercing! I immediately grabbed my face and, because she aimed for cartilage, she hit pay dirt on a blood source as she moved the nail from my nose towards my cheekbone. So, not only did she wake me, but she made sure I wasn’t going back to bed because I had a face to salvage. She’s lucky she’s little…
However, the littlest one also has a very cool name. VERITY FIREBOLT. I know what you’re thinking,,, “That’s weird. Why does she have two names?”
For starters, I had several names for kittens picked out. I’ve had them picked out for three years. Verity means “Truth” in Latin and it means “Truth” or “True” in a few other languages as well. As it is spelled, the name is from the movie “Die Another Day”, which has scorpions, diamonds, and James Bond in it (three of my favorite things. I am definitely a Sean Connery & Daniel Craig sort of James Bond fan though, as opposed to others that have played the role. I have seen every single one of those movies more times than I care to count.).
Firebolt, if you aren’t a fan, is from Harry Potter. I always said that if I got a black cat, or a predominantly black cat (at the time I was thinking black dog, but I’m sticking with kittens and cats for the duration after realizing certain things about myself.), I would name it Firebolt. Initially her name was just going to be Verity (I’m calling her V, along with Teacup, as nicknames.), but her personality is definitely that of a little lightning bolt. She’s fiery and fierce, just like her Mommy, and she deserves a strong name. That’s how she got hers. 🙂
This name is so fitting of her. She’s very honest with her emotions and affections, she’s got a lot of attitude, she loves who she loves, she runs around like a cheetah searching for prey, and I chose her name based on all of those qualities. She’s definitely living up to it!
I will post more photos as she continues to settle in and grow. Right now, she’s avoiding the modeling contract. LOL.
Thanksgiving is days away and I’m going to do my shopping tomorrow (I have been in far too much pain today to actually psych myself into it. I was also far too drained to focus on anything other than staying in my PJ’s and not going out in 22 degree temperatures. I’ve wanted a nap since a little after 9:00 this morning. I’m seriously eating dinner and going to bed as soon as humanly possible.), which is unusually late for me, but I have a list and I’m sticking to it, even though it’ll be crazy in the store no matter what.
I honestly don’t think I’ve made a Thanksgiving meal in about 6 or 7 years. It’s been long enough that I simply don’t remember the last time I did it (though I do know that my father was in the hospital at the time), but this year I decided that, despite only cooking for a few people, I’m not making ten plus pounds of turkey for anyone. It’s a lot of food, food that will absolutely go to waste because no one around here eats dark meat (Based on personal preference, nothing more. ), so I am going to re-vamp the menu slightly, but I’m still going to make stuffing because I’m craving it and it’s one of the most awesome things about Thanksgiving in terms of food.
Everyone makes stuffing differently, providing they make it at all, as everyone likes different side dishes this time of year. I don’t know anyone that makes stuffing the way I do, but I inherited the recipe from my mother and it’s good enough that I will pass it down the generational line because there is no way in the world this chick is genetically producing children that can’t cook.
I’m keeping things healthy by including a salad, even if I’m the only person that eats it. Truth be told, I like to tear up my turkey or chicken and throw it right into a salad, even on Thanksgiving. I do not feel guilty about food EVER, but I especially don’t like bringing food issues of any kind to the table during the holidays.
So, I’ve got a nice meal planned, there will be plenty of leftovers, but I’m completely sidelined and baffled by dessert. For the last couple of years I’ve ordered pies and cheesecake for the holidays from a local Italian bakery. I’m not a pie maker, I know my baking strengths and I don’t have the patience for pies, so when it comes to things of that nature, I turn to those who do it for a living. I made the mistake last year of ordering a Pumpkin Pie that was so bad, I refused to eat it. From the crust to the filling, it was one of the worst things you could ever possibly taste.
Pumpkin Pie is hard to screw up, it’s a pie I know how to make without a lot of effort, but I was exhausted last year and there would not have been pie at all if it were left up to me. I think I ordered four or five different pies between Thanksgiving and the end of last year, and the only ones worth eating were Caramel Apple Walnut & an amazing Chocolate Cream that was downright sinful (it took me two weeks to finish it, it must have weighed ten pounds!). All the others stunk, but the Caramel Apple Walnut is consistently good.
I eat fruit year round like it’s a sport, and I have an immense sweet tooth, so even though I had not previously thought about it, I am going to try to snag a Caramel Apple Walnut to cap off this year’s meal. Personally though, at least for myself, I’m thinking of making my awesome brownies. It will take me the next month and a half to eat them because they’re truly divine, and full of dark chocolately goodness and other healthy things that help reduce any issues one might have at eating a small chunk or two, but a lot will depend on how long it takes me to get the main course and the stuffing in the oven.
Fibromyalgia makes it virtually impossible for me to prepare a huge meal in a few hours like I used to, so I’m thinking I will prep the stuffing Wednesday since it’s not a long amount of prep work, and then do the main course and the salad on Thursday. Each takes less than 20 minutes, the oven does all the real work. If I have energy after that, brownies will be made. If not, I’ll settle for a tiny wedge of pie. However, I guarantee that pie will not see the light of day. It’ll come into the house tomorrow afternoon and by Thursday evening, the box will be in the trash. I have serious pie eaters here, they don’t mess around.
My only other real “plan” for Thanksgiving is to watch movies and read. I just want a nice meal and a relatively quiet day. Black Friday will be spent chasing newly acquired black kitten who is SO at home right now, it’s not even funny. Every day she learns something new and shows me a new trick. Yesterday it was the fact that, small as she is, she can open closed doors. I have to admit, I was impressed. Today she ran up and down the stairs like a mad woman, and every time I’d go to check on her, she’d go flying back up the stairs like she’d just committed a crime. If you saw the behavior on video, you’d crack up. It’s entertaining as hell. She doesn’t make a lot of noise, so when she meows, which she finally did Saturday, it is the cutest thing ever. She’s pretty possessive of me, but I don’t mind, except when she speeds after me, nearly knocking me down. She’s a little beast when it comes to following me when she wants to. She’s sound asleep, the next minute she’s right under my feet or bumping her head into my legs. She is the gift that keeps on giving, and I’m thankful that I decided to come from a place of yes and bring her home. She’s already helping me feel a lot better about certain things. I’ve had less headaches/migraines since she’s come home, which cannot be a coincidence. I’m calmer and more centered, and I am not yelling nearly as much as I normally do.
I am not gifting anyone anything this year, other than my love, loyalty, and friendship, and for some people, all three. I might treat myself to something small, but I really just want to survive the remainder of this year with my head above water, and move into a New Year where I can prosper.
I feel bad that I won’t technically be doing anything for Chanukah this year, which begins Thanksgiving night, and is my favorite of all the Jewish holidays. I have such great memories of the happiness of Chanukah that it makes me sad, but it’s also not about gifts. Right now, for me, it’s about remaining focused. I’m doing my best.
This year has taken huge chunks of my soul, but others things have been given back to me, like unconditional love, loyalty, confidence, respect, new friendships that I treasure, old friendships that are the untarnished Platinum in my life, and the knowledge that the more I grow, the more content I am with who I am and where I’m going. Nothing is set in stone, and I’m learning that every time someone tries to break me, I come back stronger from the trial.
I hope everyone has a wonderful, peaceful, happy, healthy, and safe holiday.