Storm does not find the gift from his aunt and uncle as enjoyable as I do. He did keep it on until I walked away, and he realized I had no intention of stopping his suffering.
Mr. Midnight has giardia so he's in full quarantine. We are both suffering as a result. Gloved pets are just not enough. We both want them good kitty cuddles. Safety first though.
1. How unpacked do I need to be to start fostering kittens?
2. Surely I'm unpacked enough.
3. We have a lot of land now. How exciting would it be to find kitties.
4. I cannot in fact, have a cat themed room, because that would be a bit too much of a tell that I'm a crazy cat lady. Gotta let people find that out for themselves.
5. Then again, the guest bedroom is probably only going to be used by people who already know that.
6. But that means there's less cat stuff for the rest of the house.
7. I mean, all the important stuff is unpacked. Sure I need to finish my dissertation too, but kitties.
The partner asked me why I am still getting emails from the old shelter I fostered through, after the fifth time I showed him the pictures they send with their requests for help.
And it's like he doesn't even see their cutest little faces.
Tl;dr I'm currently going through kitten withdrawals and am fighting my own mind to stay focused on getting the house unpacked instead of having bottle babies.
My new foster mom has already been way more trouble then sweet cinnamon roll Spensa.
She is a adept climber and found a hiddie hole in the crawl space to try to move her babies (who'd I'd been handling because she was letting me! She was just a whore getting pets while I weighed them! She was just apparently plotting behind my back.).
Luckily I caught her after she managed to move one but just on the other side and not far back where we would've had to cut our floor or ceiling open...
Anyways, now we have a good old fashion redneck fix of cardboard and duct tape (long term solution is to finish that wall but we have to fix the diy the last owners did first) and are giving her a more sacred space. Which she could've just gotten if she vocalized before she didn't want her babies touched instead of just trying to ferret them away. But nooo. Now she's all pissy with me and I'm just over here trying to provide her a safe space for her babies. And she's trying to take them under my floor boards. Where there's definitely a snake, btw!
We are back to being a pet whore (I only slut shame animals). But I got one baby picture before she sat on them because apparently I moved too close to take said picture.