Thursday, December 15, 2011

Yours truly, Dr. Dolittle

I mentioned yesterday that our weekend ended up somewhat of a whirl. If we haven't spoken on the phone over the past couple of days or met in person, I guess I still owe you an explanation, especially since the whirl ..or whirls kept us from indulging our DIY habits.

Thursday night - I was already in bed curled up with a new book - I heard the husband come home from work. Now, that's nothing unusual. He works late, I'm more of a morning-type person, so we trade more quick hugs and good-night kisses on week nights. Now, coming home at night, the husband has to fend his way through the gaggle? flock? murder? pack of porch cats who are getting their hopes up for a late-night treat. Polly, the female adult cow-cat (she's white with big tiger-striped splotches a la cow print), is always very vocal about her need for a snack. This time, she was making quite a racket, so - curiousity piqued - I mosied downstairs to see what husband was doing that caused such a commotion.

Turns out it was NOT Polly making all that noise.

This loudest meowing EVER was coming from a tiny kitten or rather, a kitten-shaped creature that was just skin and bones. She dove head first into one of the food dishes, ravenous and desperate.

Big wusses that we are, we couldn't help but melt. I scooped her up; featherlight and not an ounce of fat, this kitten must have been without food for days.

For the past week we've been feeding her weaning milk for an extra dose of protein and vitamins, along with kitten soft food and crunchies, and she's slowly starting to plumb up. She's quarantined in our library, away from all the other members of our zoo, and spends her days for the most part like this:

Curled up in a worn sweater of mine and snuggled up against a warm water bottle. Awww - I know! She's adorable: kitten-fierce and a big snuggler, and she was mighty fortunate to have picked our porch. I don't know how long she'd have been able to hang in ...

On Friday (that's the day right after the kitty marched into our lives) we returned to our car from Little Man's Karate class to find a dog flattened to the ground right next to it.

You see where I'm going with this?

Nobody who was out on this block of our 'hood that night recognized him and so ... yes, we took him home. Truth be told, I wasn't planning on keeping him that night. I was hoping I could hook up with a neighbor or a member of our neighborhood's animal rescue since, you know, we have cats. No such luck although our neighborhood animal rescue SACARC came to my rescue and generously provided me with a crate and dog food.

Fergus, as we dubbed our temporary visitor, took well to the crate and our home in general. I'd grown up with a dog and missed having one, but Fergus showed me just how much I miss having a dog.

This young Labrador and Pit Mix is an absolute delight. I swear there is not one aggressive hair on this dog. Over the entire 4 days we spent with him I did not hear one growl, not when touching him while he was eating, not when he was playing, not when we accidentally tripped over him, not even when I reached into his snout to pull out a bone he'd found while on a walk through the neighborhood.

Fergus clearly loved snoozing right next to our feet on a corner of the shaggy rug.

He also enjoyed getting to meet the kitties. Cats had him happily excited unless the cat was Boots; then he was just terrified. She's one grumpy old cat, I'm telling you.

Right now Fergus is over at ACPS so he can be checked for a microchip and to see if there's an owner searching for him. If nothing happens over the next week, SACARC will take him back and find him a loving home (yours, maybe?). We can't keep him, unfortunately, because he got my husband's allergies all riled up. However, he has given us the gift of a crazy-fun weekend and the realization that we could fit a dog right in. We just have to find a dog that's easier on my husband. You know, I really love for him to be able to breathe.

Oh, and he started calling me "Dr. Dolittle"

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