she's just saying...

Bob makes the front page

We're so proud...

 

more animals

CC #4: Merry Christmas from the cats

 

From Bob

 

and Muffin

CC #8: Nog

Christmas Countdown #8: Eggnog

I love eggnog. I like it homemade, and I like the over-sweet sticky stuff straight out of the carton. I only buy “light” eggnog (there’s an oxymoron) – I can’t handle the sugar and fat shock of the full-strength variety. I'm sort of obsessed with Starbuck's eggnog lattes, and I especially like eggnog with some rum and bourbon laced in. In fact, I’m sipping some right now!

Eggnog reminds me of a Christmas morning long ago when my husband Jay and I were driving our old VW bus from Boston to New Haven for Christmas with my sister and family. The bus (which we bought used and then drove across the country) seized up on the turnpike near Groton.

We had our Siberian husky, Buns, in the back, along with our presents and a pitcher of real homemade eggnog, complete with whipped egg whites, full cream, alcohol and all, that was my big Christmas morning food contribution. We ground to a halt halfway down an exit ramp and waited for the highway patrol. I opened the bus's sliding door and Buns jumped out, knocking over the eggnog and running up and down the highway. The bus reeked of hard liquor and was covered in sticky alcoholic goo. We suddenly weren’t as excited about flagging down the highway patrol.

Jay hiked down to some ratty-looking apartments to call my sister while I tried to catch the dog. I don’t actually remember much of the rest of the visit, other than renting a U-Haul to tow the bus back to Boston. I always regretted losing that eggnog, though, and when I make it I remember Jay and that crazy dog.

Crying fowl

Seriously. Do not blog about what I mentioned in my previous post. I myself will never mention the topic again. I can't handle the idea of all these visitors finding my site in their search results, clicking on it and hitting their "back" buttons as quickly as possible. I'm feeling rejected. I'm not what they want. I may be able to face this in my personal life, but it's just too much on my blog.

On the plus side, my site counter now reports over 5000 visitors, so that's pretty cool. However, two-thirds of them appear to have handmade poultry outergarment fetishes (I can't repeat the actual words).

MOVING ON...

Here are some gratuitous wild animal shots. I can't compete with Kathi D and her random celebrities, but how many people can post photos of themselves petting a badger?

                                Or posing with a turkey vulture?

                              

Good times, as they say.

Chicken sweaters

I forgot: the other very popular search that brings up my site is about knitting sweaters for chickens. This is what they're searching for:

From the BBC: 

In from the cold: chilly chickens given a winter warmer

How would you feel? One minute you're in a warm battery shed [laying shed] squashed up alongside someone who's pecking out your feathers - the next you're out in an open field with nothing to protect you from the elements. Thank the Lord for chicken jumpers...

Queenie and her three friends are feeling the cold a little more than most this winter.

Recovered from a battery farm in November last year, they were largely without feathers and - away from the artificial heat of the chicken sheds - have been feeling the winter weather.

But owner Brigitte Hawley from Benenden has come up with a clever way of allowing her hens to enjoy the outside world, while being as snug as their more feathered friends. (BBC video clip)

A knitted chicken jumper - or 'Chux Tux' as Brigitte calls it - is the latest must-have item for feather-challenged chickens exploring the brave new world outside of the battery.

Poultry pullies

The 'Tux' can come in different designs depending on which parts of the bird are in need of insulation. Brigitte can also create poultry pullies in a variety of colours.

These hens have all been re-housed by the Battery Hen Welfare Trust, a charity that works with farmers to give a new lease of life to 'spent' battery hens when their egg productivity starts to take a slide.

The good news is that once out in the open - and with the help of a Chux Tux - the hens soon start to re-grow their feathers. Great news for Queenie and for the next reformed battery hen to inherit her winter coat.

How's that for a sneaky way to repeat a post?  Um, Kathi, time to learn to knit . . .

Pumpkin/Muffin

© 2004 Melissa Hochschild

Old Dog Blues

Sounds like a song title, and it probably is.

Flash dog turned twelve this summer. He's still crazy and obsessed, just not as long. Still loves to charge around for the frisbee and ball and do his tricks like a frisky young pup, but come nighttime, he's a stiff old boy. He's had an intermittent limp for the last six months or so, and it's getting worse. So I hauled him into the vet's again this morning to examine his leg further.

So today he's consulting with an orthopedic specialist and getting x-rays. Of course, $400 just for that - no diagnosis or treatment yet. Ah well. What can you do?

He's been my faithful companion since he was seven weeks old. There was a time when he understood more words than Henry, then it was like having two toddlers, one of whom barked. There were some very trying days during that period and I went so far as to investigate another family for him (Flash, not Henry), but we learned to get along as a pack. My dream was to one day sit on the front porch and watch them play together, and that's now a reality. Flash is happy and snappy and wimpy and limpy and lovey and shovy all at the same time, to which I definitely relate. He's a good dog.

classic Flash shot

Leaving the vet's, I had to tear myself away from a flyer that read: "Want to raise and show a pig?"  I would dearly love to raise a pig -- thank god for suburban CC&R's.

Feels so good...

...feeling good again. Two months seems to be the ticket. What once was a painful ache is now a pang of regret. Whadda ya know?  It really does take time. "Every day, in every way..."

These days, work, Henry, kittens, dead fish (yes, he seems to have succumbed), baseball, knitting, work events, flag football practice, homework and oh yes, work seem to be filling my plate. I'm very happy with the new job - it's just right. I'm energized by it and challenged, and feel I can contribute substantially while learning new things, all critical criteria for the easily-bored. It's good to learn once again that I actually do like working, after the slow painful wind-down of Edge and an aimless summer.

This is turning into a catch-up blog, what with all the self-referential links. So, to round things out, Oreo is going under the knife on Tuesday, then is moving in with some friends of ours, so we get to see him grow. Some regrets, but right now he's in the pouncing and biting phase, so it's a little easier. It's actually kind of scary to have a very fierce kitten, claws out, determined to jump on your face and bite you. Over and over. Everyone's a little nervous around him right now.

Stop me

before this blog is taken over by kitten cuteness!

Just two more, then I really will change the subject.

Oreo is fascinated with the dog, who's surprisingly tolerant of him. Now and then I hear dog jaws snapping at the empty air, but he's dealing pretty well.

This one's worthy of a lolcat:

Action shots

Smackdown action:

Kitty Smackdown

My big-beautiful-Bob and the killer princess Muffin are not pleased with the presence of the little squirt Oreo in the house.

Bob stomps around growling deep in his throat and avoids the house except to eat and get a lil lovin' from the mistress (me). Muffin prefers the cold silent mean-girl stare. All the while, little happy-go-lucky Oreo continues to play, jump, and pounce, pretty much ignoring the cranky old folk.

Except when we have:

Every so often, the Bob'a'Muff team delivers a spanking to the little guy, who, like a good little kitten, rolls over and assumes the submissive "I'm just a tiny little baby" position. They raise their paws and give him a quick smack-smack-smack, then run away.

It seems to be a standard ritual and they all play their part. He doesn't seem very afraid, and someday I'm sure he'll smack them back. (That is, if we keep him, of course, which we're clearly not thinking of doing.)

Quickie

Major report due to the client tomorrow - guess who's been procrastinating? Well, at least I got the waterworks completed. There's something to be said for professional-grade procrastination - a lot gets accomplished. Just not the right lot.

Add to the catastrophe list from Sunday: a leak in the pond. Must save tadpoles!

Baby kitties, baby frogs, (big) baby dog, baby mosquitoes; we're all just a big bunch of babies around here.

Today's OCKP*

*obligatory cute kitten photo

baby cat

It's not easy to take one-handed shots of squirmy kittens in low light.

Baby kitty! How can you resist one?

Must...feed...kittens...

It's a catastrophe around here (get it? nudge nudge).

Judy, the tireless foster family coordinator for the C.O. Humane Society, picked up the 3-day olds since she located a new momcat who hopefully is so confused by the whole birth thing that maybe she lost count and won't notice two more.

Meanwhile, the shelter received 6 more kittens who were found in the back of a truck by the driver who was delivering bags of grain from Petaluma. Without their mom, who probably hopped off to go potty before the trip and was left behind (or bolted). They were emaciated and dehydrated, not having eaten for 3 days.

Judy and I split them up as we seem to be the only ones crazy enough to take on bottle babies. These guys are pretty freaked out and cry constantly and loudly, even while being fed. Eventually they conk out for awhile, then start up again. We're doing crisis counseling on their abandonment issues.

Super cute, though kind of panicky around the eyes. Photos to come.

This fish is not dead*

He just likes to sleep upside down on the surface of his tank.

Actually, it's the dreaded swim bladder disease. It happens because they've been bred to be "fancy": i.e. egg-shaped, which screws with their air bladders.

It's hard to get a good shot of him when he's upright as he has to swim constantly or he'll flip over and float to the top.

Is he suffering? Happy? Should we put him out of his misery? Maybe he's okay with his rotated view of the world. Several other fish we've had have lived for as long as a year like this. It's very distressing to look at, but when he's right-side up, he seems happy, cruising around looking for food as usual.

Don't buy fancy goldfish - it only leads to heartache.

*With a tip 'o' the blogging hat to Cathi D. (Yes, I have a thing for her. And her chickens).

ittie bittie kitties

Since y'all are going to say it anyway, let's get it over with, shall we?  All together now: "That Melissa - she crazy!" Okay, now you don't have to say it again in the comments, do you?

I turned in the baked kittens for some fresh ones right out of the oven. When I took the former ferals back to the shelter they (the shelter) begged me to take two more, 24 hours old. They were being separated from their mom who was truly a wild cat, so they could be socialized, vaccinated, wormed, spayed and everything else they do to make them acceptable, adoptable pets. How hard could it be? They don't even move yet! Right. Just like human babies, they have to be fed every 4 hours AROUND THE CLOCK.

Not being completely out of my mind (no, really), I agreed to take them on for 4 days until another foster home opens up. Otherwise, it's an 8-week commitment as a mom cat. They are awful cute, though...

More to come.

the Queen of Parsley

Today's harvest: arugula, parsley and sweetpea blossoms. Sunflowers, shallots and peas are progressing nicely as well.

It has been so beautiful here all week - not too hot, perfect temp. Friends have been dropping by for wine and meals, and the knitting group met here on the deck for some fresh air knitting. My X is out of town so I get some peace. And I'm not working, but getting paid. What could be better? If the kittens would stop crying so piteously, that's what.

Henry shot of Sylvester

Henry shot of Sylvester, originally uploaded by Meltrier.

sleeping kitten

grey sleeping, originally uploaded by Meltrier.