Wordless Wednesday - Holding Hands

Farm Friday: One Down, Four to Go

The first of our kitties went to his new home this past week.

Our little boy tuxedo Mo has gone on to be Kitty Cat Extraordinaire to two little boys about a half an hour from here. He joined a fur family of an orange tabby cat and an older dog and I'm sure he will bring them many years of fun and cuddle-buggedness. God speed Mo!

That very evening, we got a taker for Meenie, though she'll stay with us for a couple weeks till her family can get her. And Eenie and Tiger are also spoken for, so now all are claimed except sweet little Miney.









Who can open their heart and home to this little sweetheart???

They've all had their first distemper shot and a worming. They are all using thie litterbox consistently, drinking water and eating solid food. They will be eight weeks old in a few days and are ready to go on to new adventures with their family to be.

Let the offers come rolling in!!!





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Farm Friday: Kittens at Six Weeks

They are cuddle muffins.







They are capable of inducing diabetic coma with one look.





They are rascals





They are dirty.





They pounce, they hog her food, they nurse from one end while she eats from the other.




They are finally beginning to eat solid food.




But at the end of the day, they're still Mama's babies.









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Farm Friday: One Month Update

The kitties are one month old already!

SO cute.

Playful.
Curious.
Love muffins.

I could squeeze 'em all day long, but nobody's about to pay me for that, so I still have to trudge off to work.

Here. I wrapped you up a little cuteness to go.





















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Rudeness disclaimer:

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Farm Friday: Kitten Update

Geeze Louise they're growing fast.





Holy cow.

And cute?

Please.

They're starting to walk now, as opposed to belly crawling.

You know, that funny brand-new-legs walk that kittens do, one foot at a time, tail pointed straight out behind them, shaking like a junkie.



They're also beginning to groom themselves and even to play a bit.

Also? They're starting to develop personalities. Well, kittenalities, I suppose, if you want to get all technical on me.

Eenie: Thinks outside the box. Literally. Yesterday Miss Kitty and all her babies were in the box, but Eenie was just outside.




Meenie: Not a meanie. A sweetie!




Miney: This joker is a jokester.




Mo: He's my laid-back little dude. Doesn't say much, just sits back and looks at you with those eyes. At two weeks old, he's already heavily contemplated life.




Tiger: Biggest. Furriest. Leader of the band.






I've moved their box into a bigger enclosure so when they're big enough to leave the box they'll have a safe place to play.






I made the move a little sooner than I had planned, b/c when I went to check on them yesterday, I discovered Miss Kitty had moved them. She put them all in a desk drawer. They were all jumbled up in a pile on a bunch of pencils, peering out and saying, "Meow?"



And I said, "Miss Kitty, I've been there, honey. I know there are some days you just want to hide your kids away in a desk drawer or a closet or something, but you just can't do that, darlin'."

And she sighed a very heavy sigh as she watched me place them back in the box.

She's feeling a bit like a factory these days, poor girl.


That's OK.

I know she loves the little parasites....











They'll be ready in 5 1/2 more weeks! Taking orders now.....



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I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
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And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.

Farm Friday: Eenie, Meenie, Miney, Mo....

Eenie, Meenie, Miney, Mo, catch a Tiger by the toe.


Eenie




Meenie




Miney




Mo





Tiger






Miss Kitty and her babies





All are doing well. Miss Kitty is caring for them thoroughly, cleaning them, nursing them constantly, and in general just being a 24/7 cuddle-bug for them.

The babies just opened their eyes a couple days ago, at about a week.

And just a little housekeeping: a couple readers pointed out that they should really wait till eight weeeks to go to homes instead of the six I had mentioned, so I'll be sure to do that.

Also, please remember that Miss Kitty is a stray. By the time she started getting friendly with us, she was already well along in her pregnancy. I brought her in when it looked like she was getting close to delivery. She will not go out again until we get her spayed. And if anyone knows of someone who would like to have her as a pet, I would love to find her a good home. I'm sure the kittens will go pretty easily, but it's hard finding homes for cats. She is THE sweetest cat I've ever met. Really good, calm, sweet, litter-box trained, petite. If we didn't already have four, I would keep her myself.

And now I will leave you with some final parting cuteness...








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Rudeness disclaimer:

I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.

Farm Friday: KITTENS!

The kitties are here!!!












Miss Kitty had her babies on Tuesday morning! She did great. She had five beautiful, healthy, gorgeous kittens.

Two black and white tuxedos,
Two white with grey/black tiger patches,
and one that's mostly grey/black tiger with some brownish areas.

Have I mentioned that she is about the sweetest cat I have ever met? Even while in labor, if I was petting her, she was purring.

That contrasted quite nicely with what I had anticipated: that if I reached my hand into the box, her head would spin around and she would scream "Don't touch me you son of a b**ch!"

Nope.  Sweet and loving through the whole process.

You could tell she had read the What To Expect When You're Expecting Kittens book, because she followed all the steps precisely:

1) Birth a kitten.

2) Eat the birth sac.

3) Clean the kitten.

4) Birth the placenta.

5) Eat the placenta.

6) Look like you're about to hurl.

7) Repeat.


The other kids had already left for school, but Daniel and I were around for most of the process. When he got an eyeful of that first placenta, he tapped into speed I never knew he had. He made a personal best as well as a household best in his time in the Leaving the Room event.

I know some mammals of the human variety eat the placenta, too, and who am I to judge, but GROSS! Although watching the process, it made me realize how natural and probably nutritious (and revolting) it is. In fact, I thought of a couple of slogans should the placenta crowd ever want to market their approach:

Placenta.
It's what's for breakfast.

or...

Packed with protein, placenta really satisfies.

What do you think? Would either of those make you want to eat your placenta?

No? Maybe I shouldn't have quit my day job...






Taking orders for kittens NOW!!! Just think, you can have one of these little beauties for your very own in about six short weeks!


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I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.

Farm Friday

Nothing new in the farming department, but I'm tired of reposting old stuff.

I do have two small updates for you, so I'll just share them.


Like Miss Kitty, our little pregnant stray.

No kittens yet, but she continues to amaze me at how large her belly is capable of growing.




You may notice she now appears to be inside the house instead of on the porch.
That's because she's, well, inside the house.
Yes, I'm a sucker.



The other update is our fence.

Our neighbors that adjoin our lower field had torn down our hedgerow and ramshackle fence, with the promise of erecting a new wooden post and rail fence. I was thrilled, because it meant a nice new fence at zero cost to us.

And yet, that was two years ago.

Which means we haven't been able to use that field at all because there is nothing to contain the critters.

So just a few days ago I said to Fred, I said, I'm going to go out and get me a whole bunch of t-posts and barbed wire and start putting that up just to put the fear of God in them.

Well, they must have heard me, because I came home from work a couple days ago and saw their fence had been started. It's still got many yards to go before it's all fenced in, but it looks like they've got all the lumber laid out and ready to finish.

So it appears that very soon I shall be able to open the gate and let the horses in to graze on that long, luscious grass that hasn't been munched on in a couple years.

They will be very happy.

It's the stuff of dreams.

If you're a horse.



Anyway, here's hoping that the next installment of Farm Friday will have pictures of newborn kitties and pictures of happy horses.

Have a great weekend!



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But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.

Farm Friday: Ill-Conceived Notion

This is something I posted a couple years ago. I file it under the "what was I thinking?" category...



As I was making the appointment with the vet's office, I thought to myself,
This is an ill-conceived notion.

A few of my critters were due for their annual shots
OK, 2 mths past due, but who's counting?
so I was figuring who to take. Since my vet gives a discount to any client deranged enough to bring in more than two animals at a time, I thought it prudent to take advantage of the savings. Also, more animals at once means fewer trips all together.

And I knew my yellow Lab had another ear infection. See, I'm kind of like an animal expert, so when she tilts her head back and scratches it slowly with her hind foot, then examines the foot, sniffs it, and licks the bacteria-laden puss from her claws, I just made that leap in my brain. I'm smart that way.

It's sorta like when a hillbilly picks some festering bit of squirrel from between his teeth, studies it, then eats it.

So I decided two dogs and two cats would be a nice, balanced mix. Wisely, I determined that putting both cats in one carrier would free up one hand, making things more efficient. They would be comfortable, I was sure, as it was quite roomy.

By roomy, I mean it was roughly the size of a one-car garage.

As it had a handle, I considered it a "carrier", but much like a hanky in a breast pocket, it was all for show.
This was meant to be set in place in one's home and remain there. If the house were to be sold, this "carrier" would be sold along with it, much like a refrigerator or an oven.

With the cats comfortably lounging in their respective corners, I hoisted it up and proceeded to get it downstairs to the car. Besides the mass and the bulky dimensions of the carrier itself, I hadn't thought that I would also be hauling the combined 25 lbs of the cats themselves. My back and neck muscles were bulging, I started to break out in a cold sweat, and I was muttering obscenities under my breath, but get it downstairs I did.

Next I brought the dogs down. Sunny (the Lab) was wiggling all over, excited at the prospect of
going somewhere
and
doing something.

She leaped before the door was fully open.
You know how when Wile E Coyote runs headlong into a cliff painted deceptively like a tunnel, and his body accordians up and he plays music? I can attest that this happens in real life.

When her body straightened out, and with the door in its fully upright position, she jumped into the back of the car. By the time I leveraged the carrier into place beside her, I had to spend a few minutes picking up the crayons, coloring books, headphones and socks that had been dislodged from the car due to Sunny's perpetual state of wiggle-iness.

We got to the vet's in short order and I proceeded to unload without incident. Getting them into the office was another matter.

First Sunny wedged herself into the doorway just as I was edging the carrier through.
She is not known for her intellect.

They were jammed, but I unstuck them and tried again. This time I told the dogs to stay as I tried to put the carrier through first. But Cindy Lou, the little Rat Terrier, darted under the carrier and around my ankles a couple times, winding me up like a top, then sprinting back the way she came, sending me spinning.
Unfortunately the act of unwinding herself only served to wind Sunny up.

I put the carrier on the ground and proceeded to intricately step over and under leashes, much like Tom Cruise avoiding lasers in a spy movie.

Untangled, I left the carrier where it was and got the dogs in the door, then dragged the portable shed through the doorway inch by inch.

We had made it.

Into the foyer.

We then had to repeat the whole process to get through the next door and into the office proper.

Only once I opened said door, the antiseptic smell of Vet's Office washed over the dogs and they knew where they were. This was no longer an adventurous outing, but an excursion through the gates of Hell.

They both put their full body weights into pulling back against their leashes. This while I was pushing the carrier through the doorway with about 1/2 inch to spare on either side, like I was moving a dresser into a bedroom. I pushed it into the office as far as my arms would reach, then stepped back and flung the dogs in with one mighty, adrenaline-surge of strength.

I recovered my breath for a few moments in the waiting room, slumped in a chair, my hair plastered to my face, my clothes enshroudeded in dog hair. The dogs were trembling in the corner. The cats, nonplussed, gazed out at me from the confines of their mini mansion.

The time came to weigh the dogs and Sunny lumbered onto the scale. I know I heard it creak. For a split second her motion stopped and her weight registered.
101 pounds.

My mind's eye offered up several snapshots:
Sunny parked under the table, catching each food particle before it hit the floor.
Sunny beating the other dogs to the dishes placed on the floor to pre-rinse before going in the dishwasher.
Sunny trying to wedge her massive body inside the dishwasher to get any nuances of food left behind from the pre-rinse.
She was all about the food.

Next it was Cindy Lou's turn.
"Go ahead and put her on the scale", instructed the tech.
"She is on the scale", I replied.
She weighed all of 8 pounds.

We got them all in the exam room and the the vet did his thing and all went well. Except Cindy, having never been to the vet's before, was nervous. Standing on the exam table, facing the vet, she saw his hand reach out to her and she wanted away. With her little tail being pressed up against my arm, she had nowhere to go. So she started backing her hindquarters up my body till her back legs were on my shoulder and she was doing a full handstand, completely vertically, upside-down.

Yes. I have normal animals.

The exam over, with thorough examinations and multiple vaccinations for each of them and two new drugs for Sunny's ears, I headed to the desk to check out.
There was much clicking of the keyboard.
There were many papers printed.
There were consultations in hushed whispers.

I was presented with the bill.

$401 dollars.

My God in heaven.

This was 1/2 a month's worth of groceries.
This was a pair of shoes and a pack of socks for each member of the family. And throw in some underwear.
This was a couple month's worth of school lunches.
This was a trip to WalMart when I only planned on getting some Tide and Ziplock Bags but ended up buying everything that I saw that I thought we needed at the time including that cute little throw-rug that would look just right by the front door.

There was only one thing for it.
Sell the children for scientific experimentation.

Farm Friday: Poppin' Stray

Miss Kitty?

Our front porch stray?

She's about ready to pop.

She first started getting friendly with us about a month and a half ago, and I suspected then that she was "with kitten".

Cats have about a two month gestation, so if I'm right, we could be looking at kittens any day now.





I'd better get knitting....




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I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.

Farm Friday: Animal Magnetism

I've said it a million times. I don't have a green thumb.

I do, however, seem to have a hairy thumb. Or at least I used to.

The quality of the care of my critters appears to be indirectly proportional to the number of children I have.

Stupid critters haven't gotten the memo, though.

They keep finding me.

For example, on my birthday, we were driving to dinner, when I spied what appeared to be a hawk in distress. Before Fred could say "late to dinner", he was making a u-turn. But as it turned out, what I thought was a hawk hanging upside down by his talons caught in netting above a Little League field, was just the hawk trying to eat a bird that had died in said netting.

Disaster averted.

Walking back to the car after dinner, I spied a little kitty wandering the parking lot. With no houses anywhere nearby, and a busy highway not far away, I figured he was doomed. Soon enough, most of the kids and myself were trying to chase him down in the parking lot, getting down on all fours, peering under cars, shining flashlights hither and yon, but to no avail. We finally had to console ourselves with the knowledge that there were dozens of workers at this strip of restaurants, and surely someone would find him and get him to safety.

Then a couple of weeks ago, the stray cat that had been slinking around our barn for some time finally decided we were trustworthy enough to befriend. She is now living on our front porch in a box filled with blankets, and a never-ending supply of chow and water and belly rubs. We're trying to find a home for sweet little Miss Kitty, and oh by the way, she seems to be pregnant.












You can add her to the list of cats that seem to find us, including Mamfy and Mali who live with us permenantly; like the stray we call Smoky Joe that lives in our barn; and the new long-haired grey, as yet unnamed, that showed up last week.

Of course, cat food on the porch has led to a new critter in town.  Another grey, only this one has beady eyes and a revolting rat-like tail.  A possum.

Delightful.

Then last week, my husband's birthday, actually, there was a bird loose in the house. It somehow flew down the chimney and found its way out in our basement. I caught him with a towel and set him free, but not after he gave chase to myself and four crazed kitties hungry for a little afternoon snack.










This is all just in the last few weeks, mind you.

Yes, animals seem to be drawn to me as if by magnetic force. 

I don't know why.

I do know that the balance point has been tipped.  I am no longer in control.  I am overworked in my duties as zookeeper.  The dog-hair dust bunnies have begun to breed prolifically, I buy more cat food than cereal, and I shall soon be responsible for finding homes for kitties for God's sake.

If something's going to be attracted to me magnetically, why can't it be chocolate or my couch and heating blanket or wine or George Clooney?

Why kittens and fledgling starlings?



Help Wanted:
Assistant Zookeeper
No pay, but you get to pet soft things and clean up lots of poop.

Any takers?




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Rudeness disclaimer:

I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.