I sit here childless this morning. This never happens. I am always stuck caring for someone or something. As broadcast in my last post, the youngest flew the coup yesterday morning, and today the old man carted off both dogs to the vet. I am alone. Well, unless you count these ten, awful kittens I have that are nearly three months.
You’d think because they are all outside now that taking care of them would be simple, right? Wrong! These two sets of kittens that were born a week a part are so rotten and annoying both of their mothers ran off to be free of them. One took off at least a month ago, which left the other to try and raise all of them by herself. The problem is they wouldn’t stop nursing. All ten of them followed her around and sucked the poor girl dry till she was a bag of bones. No exaggeration here! And there was literally no excuse for it, because they were all eating kitten food by the age of seven/eight weeks. Well, this bitch took off too about a week or so ago, so the little darlings won’t leave us alone now. Our windows are low and there’s a ledge underneath the bathroom window, so they take turns sitting and crying through the screen, and the moment they hear any movement whatsoever from any of us, they start climbing the screen. I shit you not! The worst part though is you can’t step outside the door without a whole gaggle of them greeting you and trying to slip inside. I mean they actually fight to get in the house. I have to take a squirt bottle full of water with me when I go in and out. This is tricky when you’re dragging a 90 pound, Pitbull on a leash with you and holding the door open for a chihuahua. If any of you recall my previous posts where I said how tickled I was that I was a new grandma of ten…ignore it. This no longer holds water.
Both boys had to go to the vet this morning, because both of them are sick. This never happens either. Hound Dog had his nuts cut last weekend, remember? Well I think he got a cold from the doctors office, cause he came home not feeling well, and within days had a runny nose and was coughing up phlegm. We’d already made an appointment for Sully for this weekend, so decided the little guy would go back in with him. I don’t know what’s wrong with the big guy. He was acting a little funny from the heat, but I just tried to keep him cool. Then I noticed he wouldn’t drink any water from his dish, but kept trying to slip into the bathroom to drink from the toilet–and before you all cringe, no…we don’t allow him to do that–so I found myself having to put ice in his water dish to coax him to drink it. Then he started peeing at random on my floor. He’s been housebroke for four years so there’s no excuse. Within the last couple of days he’s stopped eating completely and acts lethargic. Anyway, they are vet bound this morning, so hopefully if he has a urine infection or something they can get it taken care of.
Yeah, mommy and daddy have been pretty worried about the babies. We let them sleep with us last night. Normally we don’t do this because the Pitbull always stretches out on my end of the bed, and I wind up sleeping with my damn knees up to my chest. Then the chihuahua likes to burrow beneath the cover but over the top sheet, so every time me and my husband move and pull the covers taut, he tends to springboard up like he’s on a trampoline. Fun, fun, when the four of us are on the queen size bed together. I’ve been having a bit of a guilt complex though over the neutering. When I sent him in I didn’t realize they take the whole ball out of the sack! Ewwww! I thought they just went in and cut a cord like they do on a man. My baby has saggy, empty, ball sacks now, you can tell he’s pissed at me, and the old man won’t let me forget it. I asked my husband the other day if he thought Hound Dog knew they weren’t there anymore, and he said “Well yeah he knows!” Then proceeded to tell me that my dog hates me now, and that he told him it was all my fault. Whatever! Just this morning…
Hubby: Climbing out of bed and preparing to take the dogs outside to do their business. “Come on… Come on…” He’s using his Robin Williams ‘Mrs. Doubtfire’ voice trying to coax Hound Dog off the bed.
Me: “Well pick him up. He doesn’t want to jump down off the bed. He’s still sore.”
Hubby: Standing in the doorway. “Whose fault is that?”
Me: “Stop it. You’re not going to make me feel guilty. You know he needed to get fixed cause he won’t stop riding the kittens and Sully. And besides, how was I to know they took the whole damn thing out?”
Hubby: He’s using his baby talk on Hound Dog who still won’t budge off the bed. “Yes, we hate mommy now, don’t we? She turned you into a nutless wonder, didn’t she?”
Me: “That’s mean.”
Hubby: “It’s not me he hates.” My husband gives me the ‘look’. Then back to his Mrs. Doubtfire voice. “Come on you little nutless wonder…let’s go potty.”
Yep, that’s how my morning began. The old man carted off the huge piss-machine and the little nutless wonder, so I sit here alone with my pc and thoughts. I probably should get up and get my butt motivated. I don’t do nearly enough around here anymore. FYI for those who care: I’m feeling much better this morning about my son. I assume it will come and go in waves for a while. In the meantime I’ll just make the best of it.
You all have a rocking weekend if you don’t hear from me. Cyber-hugs! Mean it!!