Guests, invited and not so much
Invited: finitejester37 (and her knitting) made it here in good time and in good health yesterday around 6:30PM. Yay! Really, she's a fabulous knitter. She's doing something now on 3 fine gage needles in a triangle that's kind of blowing my mind. We introduced her to our yarn-on-the-hoof herd last night when Hannibal got to get his herdsire on by breeding with two of our friend's open girl alpacas. Now Jes has been initiated into the select group of people who have heard orgling first hand. Truly it is a sound that is impossible to describe but unforgettable once you've heard it. She also hand fed the rest of the herd, and even the notoriously skittish Satine ate some grain from her palm Go, Jes :)
The uninvited: Holmes the giant orange cat brought me a dead giant gray rat for breakfast. No, really, you shouldn't have. Really. Then while Dar and I were out, Pixel apparently brought home a live mouse. Maddie escorted said mousie to safety. I was just saying that I need to buy myself some rodent-flinging gloves. I'm using either disposable rubber gloves or my paddock work gloves (depending on how gross the rodent is that needs to get flung), but I think I should have a dedicated pair that I can wash out with hot water.
Pixel was licking my face and giving me her kitty kisses when I got back from running errands, and I started thinking, "Mouse lips. I'm getting kissed by mouse lips." Heh. And ugh.
In other news, the nephrologist moved up my appointment to 8:30AM tomorrow morning. That's going to be a hassle to make given the 35 minute drive and the early hour and the feeding the alpacas that has to be done first (by Dar, I should clarify), but I just can't wait until next week to get the results from that biopsy. I was telling Dar that my results could range anywhere from "Sorry, it was a botched biopsy and nothing is resolved." up to "So. Do you have a favorite undertaker?" Hee. I doubt it will be either one of those, but please, please, please, let it be something definitive.
Oh, and speaking of health stuff, Q got herself stepped on by Jester the horse. Yeah, it's in the passive case because she says she was fooling around with him and it was partly her fault. But still . . . big honkin' Owww. Her foot isn't broken, but it is painful and bruised and all wrapped up in an ace bandage, and I'm sure she'll tell you all about it. See? This is why I remain courteous but businesslike when I deal with Jester who, yes, has been nicknamed Bad Horse now. (Dar says she greets him every morning nowadays by calling out "How's my Stallion of Sin?" and she wonders what the neighbors must be thinking. Bwah!)
Chloe (14 months old) is curled up asleep against Rocky, our older, neurotic, "I want to be alone" cat. He clearly doesn't know what to think about this, and spent many minutes just staring down at her before he just now slowly backed up and sprawled a few inches away. But she just moved, and now she's sleeping up against his butt. Cute! Chloe and her sister Jane love Rocky to death. Love, love, love. They're slowly wearing down his defenses - at least where they're concerned. Woe to any other cat that tries to get that friendly. I actually caught him lightly grooming Jane's head yesterday, but then he saw me looking and stopped. Awww, Rocky, you're just a big softie.
The uninvited: Holmes the giant orange cat brought me a dead giant gray rat for breakfast. No, really, you shouldn't have. Really. Then while Dar and I were out, Pixel apparently brought home a live mouse. Maddie escorted said mousie to safety. I was just saying that I need to buy myself some rodent-flinging gloves. I'm using either disposable rubber gloves or my paddock work gloves (depending on how gross the rodent is that needs to get flung), but I think I should have a dedicated pair that I can wash out with hot water.
Pixel was licking my face and giving me her kitty kisses when I got back from running errands, and I started thinking, "Mouse lips. I'm getting kissed by mouse lips." Heh. And ugh.
In other news, the nephrologist moved up my appointment to 8:30AM tomorrow morning. That's going to be a hassle to make given the 35 minute drive and the early hour and the feeding the alpacas that has to be done first (by Dar, I should clarify), but I just can't wait until next week to get the results from that biopsy. I was telling Dar that my results could range anywhere from "Sorry, it was a botched biopsy and nothing is resolved." up to "So. Do you have a favorite undertaker?" Hee. I doubt it will be either one of those, but please, please, please, let it be something definitive.
Oh, and speaking of health stuff, Q got herself stepped on by Jester the horse. Yeah, it's in the passive case because she says she was fooling around with him and it was partly her fault. But still . . . big honkin' Owww. Her foot isn't broken, but it is painful and bruised and all wrapped up in an ace bandage, and I'm sure she'll tell you all about it. See? This is why I remain courteous but businesslike when I deal with Jester who, yes, has been nicknamed Bad Horse now. (Dar says she greets him every morning nowadays by calling out "How's my Stallion of Sin?" and she wonders what the neighbors must be thinking. Bwah!)
Chloe (14 months old) is curled up asleep against Rocky, our older, neurotic, "I want to be alone" cat. He clearly doesn't know what to think about this, and spent many minutes just staring down at her before he just now slowly backed up and sprawled a few inches away. But she just moved, and now she's sleeping up against his butt. Cute! Chloe and her sister Jane love Rocky to death. Love, love, love. They're slowly wearing down his defenses - at least where they're concerned. Woe to any other cat that tries to get that friendly. I actually caught him lightly grooming Jane's head yesterday, but then he saw me looking and stopped. Awww, Rocky, you're just a big softie.