Menagerie (That’s "Menagerie," not "Ménage a trois"… sorry)

About two weeks ago, I was going to write about how Angela and I got three pets in a period of a few days. However, a few short days after that, we were back down to zero pets. So, I’ll give you a run-down of what happened to our temporary mascotas:

This is one of our pets, which I’ve mentioned before. Angela’s sister Teresa’s cat had kittens, and this was one of the kittens that she offered us when they are ready to leave their mother. This is pet number one, which we might have soon. Truth be told, though, I don’t actually care that much for cats, and none will be able to replace dear, departed Pussypie.

This poor, ratty little thing is pet number two. She was an abandoned street dog that showed up at our house construction one day. Diogenes (one of the workers) and Angela took pity on her. They gave her some food and started calling her by the terribly un-subtle name “Somalia.”
She was guarding our house for about a week, when she suddenly disappeared on the weekend. For about two days, Angela and I were worried about her and, knowing that some people around these parts are total assholes when it comes to stray mutts, we feared the worst. Then on Monday, Angela asked Diogenes if he knew what happened to Somalia, and he told her that the incompetent hick that had attached our roof had taken her. As it turns out, Angela had half-jokingly told the guy that he could have the dog, so on Saturday afternoon he’d simply come by and taken her.
The guy is kind of a tool, but I’m glad that the dog’s still alive. I hope that she has a long life full of food.
This is our third pet from that week. One morning as we were hanging out tidying up the living room, we heard a feeble meow coming from in front of our house. We went outside to see what was making the noise, and we saw this little kitten crying in the middle of the street.
Apparently, a lot of times if people around here don’t want an animal, they drive it out to the country and just leave it somewhere. I could begin a gigantic rant here about this very topic, but I won’t. Suffice it say that it infuriates me to think that someone could be so irresponsible and cold to put a little kitten like this in a plastic bag and throw it out of their car. Goddamn bastards.
Fortunately, we got to this kitten before a car could run it over, and we brought it inside. We had no idea what to do with it, so we kind of petted it and put it on the grass. Angela then tried to wash off its ass with the spray nozzle on our hose, since it had a dingleberry (probably related to worms, if I had to guess). Somehow, watching my wife soak this little creature made my own mothering instincts kick in, and I grabbed the kitten and took over from there.
I dried off the poor little thing. I gave it some milk that I warmed up in the microwave, and it drank that happily. I found a box, some newspapers, and a towel, and I set up a house for the little guy in our “Crucifix-Torture Room.” And I even gave him (or her?) this little stuffed animal from Burger King. Content and safe, the kitten finally shut the hell up and slept for about 20 hours.
The next day, we decided to take “Ryan Junior” (the name we gave it, since it has blue eyes and short, ugly blond hair that stands on end) to Angela’s sister Teresa’s house since, as mentioned before, her cat had recently had kittens. Her sister wasn’t too happy with the idea, seeing as they were trying to get rid of animals, not gain them. But Angela told Teresa that if she didn’t care for the kitten, that we wouldn’t take one of the kittens that she was trying to give us. Angela also mentioned that she wouldn’t let Teresa take care of our future kids, since that seems to be something that both her sisters want to do, for some reason.
Anyhow, the mamá cat let Ryan Junior near her to drink milk, and apparently he’s been “attached” to her ever since. They say that the mother’s just about “dry” by now, but at least he’s getting bigger and nicer, and we may be able to take him in soon, once we get a space where we can keep him.
So, in a country filled with heartbreaking stories about animals, here you’ve got three that will hopefully turn out pretty well.
But you damn well better know that we’re getting those cats fixed.
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Sitzman

Errand-Running Monkey at Sitzblog
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One thought on “Menagerie (That’s "Menagerie," not "Ménage a trois"… sorry)

  1. Aww. As you know, I´m more of a dog person, and that pic of poor Somalia is too damn sad. Mrs. Q cannot stand seeing dogs hungry or sad, so she keeps feeding every mutt she sees. Cats? Not so much. Truth is cats freak the crap outta me for some reason.

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