Kitty Escape

I promised you details on how I almost bungled Blair's effort to get the kitten help, so here it is.

Of course yesterday when I saw the tiny kitten in the carrier, my immediate impulse was to open the carrier, scoop him/her up and cuddle him/her,which I did. (We think it's a "him" so let's go with that). "Be careful," said Blair. "He'll run."

"You won't run, will you sweetie?" I cooed. "No you won't. No you--" I set the kitten down and damn if the thing didn't take off. I honestly didn't expect it. He'd been crawling around my neck and most kittens will sniff a new environment to get the feel of it before they try to explore. I just underestimated how scared this kitten probably was.

So he ran under our shed, which has poison ivy on one side and sits on what is essential a breeding ground for mosquitoes. I kneeled in the grass and called to the kitty and got 8 mosquito bites as my reward, but no cat. Then Blair got a long piece of wire and poked it under the shed, nudging the kitten until it was close enough for him to grab. Back in the carrier he went, safe and sound.

This morning we got up and checked on him. I held him while Blair cleaned out the cage (I kept a firm grip this time). The little guy was almost purring and stretched his head up once or twice for me to scratch behind his ears. He put up no fuss when we put him back in the carrier and settled in the back in the litter tray.

I almost couldn't get him to the vet this morning. They already have 6-8 kittens and aren't taking in any new strays. But the vet said since I was a good client, he'd take this one. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!  I don't know what I would do if this kitten had been turned away. I couldn't just release it after all this.

So they've going to test for feline leukemia and feline AIDS and they'll give me a call later today and let me know what's up.

I'm so angry at people for not fixing their animals. How many millions of little kittens just like this one are out there right now, hungry, scared and suffering, because some ignorant human being couldn't be bothered to pay the $50 to fix their cat? On July 4th, I wanted to slap this sweet older woman who lives on my street who told me their farm cat just had kittens. I said she should have her cat fixed and she said, "Well we do the male ones." Brilliant solution, Holmes. See any holes in the logic of that one?

Then she said she had wanted one of the kittens but the mama cat either moved them off somewhere or else maybe a fox got them.  Stupid, ignorant, curse word, curse word, curse word. All these animals desperate at a chance for life and a good home and probably 90% of them won't find it.  There has got to be a way to fix this.

A Soft Touch / Kitty Rescue

Ask me how much I love my husband. Go ahead--ask me. I love this man more than words can say.  There are many reasons I adore him but the one standing out right now is because he is a great-big-SOFTIE.

Today is Sunday and Blair was at work all day. He got home around 4 and I was on the couch reading. "Can you  help me with something on the back porch?" he asked, striding through the house. Sighing, I put down my tea, grabbed my shoes and followed him out to the back porch. There I found a carrier containing one small, frightened, malnourished, but VERY cute long-haired gray kitten. 

"Meow," cried the kitten.

I looked at Blair in astonishment. He rolled his eyes. "I walked to K&W for lunch and saw her. She obviously has a lot wrong with her and I left her alone. But I sat at my desk and kept thinking about her and I knew she must be hungry so I ran to PetSmart and got her some kitten food. She gobbled that down and seemed stronger for it, so I thought maybe..." He shrugged. "So anyway, I went back and got a carrier and brought her home. We'll take her into the vet tomorrow as a stray and see what they can do for her."

So everyone calm down--we are NOT keeping the cat. But we will pay for any medical treatment she may need and she's just a beautiful cat--big blue eyes and long gray striped fur around her face--so there's a good chance (we hope) she may be adopted. 

We're going to keep her on the back porch in a carrier tonight. I wanted to close her off in the bathroom but Blair has a point that we don't know what she may have and bringing her in the house with our two girls is probably not a good idea. We gave her litter, food, water, a washcloth to curl up on and a red cotton mousy for company. Poor thing--she's just pawing at the cage, mewing, trying to get out. I hate to think of her out there alone all night but Blair is right--she doesn't know how lucky she is that he found her and it's for the best.

Our county doesn't have a shelter and our vet doesn't allow people to just bring in strays. What has to happen is that tomorrow morning I'll call the police department and tell them I have a stray. Then they'll come by the house and take the cat to the vet and bring me back the carrier. Seems kind of silly but I guess it cuts down on people just bringing a ton of strays into the vet. 

I'll let you know how she does tomorrow and also the  error of judgement I made that almost cost us the kitty. Everyone send good thoughts kitty's way.

And isn't Blair just the sweetest guy around? 

New Running Shoes

Since I appear to be serious about this running thing, I decided to invest in a pair of running shoes. My neighbor R. recommended I check out this cute little shop in Greensboro called Off'N Running (the "cute little shop" is my doing, not R's).  I stopped in today and had such fun--not something I typically associate with shoe shopping.

When selecting the proper running shoe, one does not (as I admittedly have in the past) buy the shoes based on color and or level of cuteness. No, no. There is a whole science to the process.

First I stood on the floor in bare feet while they examined me for...actually, I don't know. But the sales guy seemed interested in how I stood. Then I had to walk the length of the store and back. Then they looked at my current running shoes to see where they were worn and how I used them. Apparently, I have a slight pronation on my left foot.  Or in layman's terms, my foot rolls inward when I walk/run.

Based on what he observed, the owner brought out 3 pairs of shoes. (Side note: I wear an 8 1/2 and sometimes a 9 but had to go to a 9 1/2 in a running shoe! The owner swore it's because they size them small but geez, what woman wants to buy a 9 1/2 shoe? I made him swear to tell anyone who asks that I purchased a 7). 

Here's the fun part. Not only did I get to try on each pair of shoes, but they put me on a treadmill and had me jog at a moderate pace for a minute in each of the shoes so they could observe the support and how my feet were turning. Only then was the correct pair singled out.

Can you picture this sort of treatment for ladies heels? "Well ma'am, your toes appear only moderately pinched in the suede model and as long as you cling to your date for support and never attempt to walk independently, I think those 4-inch heels will serve you well. But hop on out there on our store dance floor and let's see how they look."

So I can't wait to try out  my new super cool (but--sigh--not all that pretty) new running shoes. I'm planning an hour's run on Sunday so we'll see how they do then.

Phone Interviews

I spend a fair amount of time on the phone, interviewing people for the articles I'm writing. I've learned to almost enjoy this process. I am not a phone person and it would never, ever occur to me to call a friend just to "see what's up." Even if Blair and I are apart due to one of us traveling, we'll do a 5-minute "Hey, I got to the hotel okay" call and then won't speak for the next week or two that we're out of town. (He's not a phone talker, either). But interview phone calls have a purpose and are usually under 30 minutes each, so I deal with them.

My first phone interview was years ago with a breeder of Black & Tan Coonhounds for a  breed profile I wrote for Dog & Kennel. I was so nervous beforehand. I was afraid the woman would be able to tell I'd never interviewed anyone before, afraid I wouldn't ask the right questions, wouldn't get the answers I needed, etc. It's funny, as conducting interviews for breed profiles are so second nature now, I don't even need to prepare beforehand.

 But I was supposed to have an interview yesterday with an animal behaviorist and I did prepare for it. I'm writing a humor article for an animal newsletter that comes out of a large research university.  The editor wants a few expert opinions sprinkled in about why animals bring humor to our lives and why that's good for us. So, fine. I e-mailed this behaviorist and we set a time yesterday afternoon to talk.

I called at the time, and he wasn't there. I called back 15 minutes later, still not there (he'd warned me he might be late). I left a message and he called me back about 40 minutes later.  I thanked him for calling and asked my standard, "Is this a good time for you?" pre-interview question.

And he went off. Politely, but still with a lot of tension and nerves behind his voice. He told me it was not a good time and he knew when he set the appointment with me it wouldn't be.  His graduate students needed his attention, his family was sick, he had to travel, plus he's already given interviews to so and so for this magazine and on and on.  I tried to interject once or twice that it wasn't crucial I get the interview that day but he talked over me.  Finally he admitted he didn't want to do the interview, didn't have time.  

I'm fine with that. People have lives and there's always other people I can find to talk to. But after he gave me this litany of reasons why he couldn't do it and that he didn't want to do it, he sighed, sounding exasperated and said, "I suppose I could squeeze out an hour next Tuesday if I absolutely had to--" I cut him off and insisted I would be fine and able to locate another source.  He hesitated a bit and then thanked me and we hung up.

The whole conversation was just very odd. People have such a hard time saying no. It's clear he never should have agreed to the interview in the first place as he's already loaded to the max. But what amazed me was that after he spent the time covering with me why he couldn't do it, and I agreed, he backtracked and was going to find time to fit me in. Even though I could tell he would have been ticked if I'd taken him up on it. 

But most people are happy to be interviewed and what I've found is they are usually much more nervous than me. They want to make sure they sound good and give solid information. So part of my job as an interviewer is to get them to relax, which relaxes me in the process.

But I still don't like the phone...