I've managed to give up three kittens within four days. It's refreshing. Literally. I can't wait to get the stench of cat out of spare bedroom and computer room... I plan on painting and ripping out carpet very soon (which is something that needed done anyway). That leaves me with the little Fuzzball, who will go live with my brother as soon as possible (which might not be for a few more weeks). I'm ok with being stuck with Fuzzball for a while. And I know I'm calling this kitty exactly the same thing that I called my fetus, and I'm ok with that. Because Lyric is anything but a Fuzzball. And where the hell did I ever get the idea to call a fetus a fuzzball anyway? But back to the Fuzzball - he's fat, and fuzzy, and CUTE, so the name suits him. He was originally Boba Fett - and I'm not sure if my brother has picked a name for him, so whatever.
But here's the dilemma, peeps... just when I thought I was getting kitty free - I picked up a stray. My friend from work had to move her dad to a nursing home, and therefore had to get rid of his cat. I was adverse to her just dropping the poor old kitty off anywhere, so I told her to bring it over. Suprisingly, my huzz was ok with that. That's why he rocks.
Thankfully, I found a nice lady online who is a big time lover of the Siamese breed, and she offered to take Ms. Nana (the kitty) off my hands. I would have, of course, loved to keep her. She was sweet once she warmed up to us, with the major exception of my kids - Lyric, Boots, and Red. She was NOT fond of any of them. And Boots hated her. I've never seen Boots puff out her tail and yowl like she did when she saw Nana. But this morning I did the kitty hand off, and now my home is a little less furry... particularly after buying the Bissell Pet Hair Eraser this weekend at Target. ROCK!