As a side note, I have been hearing an exceptionally minor line from the film Terms of Endearment in my head ever since Monday afternoon. Debra Winger's character is in the grocery store and doesn't have enough money to pay for her items, so she starts to put things back. A snotty cashier motivates her to put candy for each of her kids back on the conveyor belt. So the cashier yells "We're going in the wrong direction here!" Well, that's where we are here in Teeny Tiny Tabby Town... Going in the wrong direction here.
Welcome home, Lincoln. We missed you very much.
And we will do our very best to make sure that your next adoption is your last adoption.
"Sure... We're all excited about having Lincoln home. But how about you take a picture of Cooper too, Lady?"
"Cooper is special TOO!"
Yes Cooper, you are extraordinarily special (and that's why I spent the next several minutes rubbing his very special belly)
So on Tuesday morning, our number went from four fosters to five.
And on Tuesday evening, our number unexpectedly went from five fosters to seven.
Meet Vixen and Comet, the newest residents of the upstairs bathroom.
(See? I told you that I had an excellent reason for the short blog post yesterday!)
Vixen and Comet are two 8-week-old kittens who were taken in as ferals a few weeks ago by foster mother Diane. Their mother dropped them off in Diane's yard and high-tailed it out of there. Aren't they gorgeous?
We were supposed to take them right after the Jeffersons moved out, but a slow moving Lionel and Willie Rae delayed them by a week (and then a sick Abby and the arrival of the Quincy-Adams clan delayed them by a bit more). Now that they are 8-weeks-old and almost ready for adoption, it was decided that they really need the socialization that the kids, the other cats, and the dog can give them in the next week or so. So... here they are!
They visited the vet for their first shots on Tuesday evening and were found to have a few hitchhikers... ugh. So they moved into the bathroom for a few days while we kill off the pests (two rounds of Capstar, a bath with Pert Plus, and a dose of Frontline have pretty much done the trick). I will check them again on Thursday night or Friday morning and move them in downstairs with the Quincy-Adams boys when they are clear.
They are technically ready to start visiting adoption hours this weekend, but they're a bit skittish so I've lobbied for an extra week. As short timers we won't be giving them their own last name, but they are honorary members of the Quincy-Adams clan.
This precious little puffball is Comet.
He always looks slightly surprised... and somewhat like he has just stuck a toe in a light socket... our boy has "Kramer" hair (sticking out everywhere!) :-)
Comet's much smaller sister Vixen is a dead ringer for Mother Jefferson.
So much so that I've taken to calling her "Mama Junior"
I am certain that Mama is not amused by this.
I, on the other hand, am thrilled to have these dumplings with us.
They're purring and everything.
Two out of three kids went down with stomach flu overnight Tuesday into Wednesday. As I write this, I'm starting to feel a bit, for want of a better word, blech. I'm trying my best to fight it off, but if I should happen to disappear from the blogosphere on Friday... well, you know what happened to me.
As my gift to you in case I'm missing tomorrow, I present...
Norman in a box.
Sorry that I didn't have time to wrap him.