Chads & Trixies

A few days ago, Erik came home with two kittens he rescued from a crack addict he found on the street. He had been trying to sell them to random people, and Erik managed to talk him into giving them to him so he could get them help. They were actually in pretty good condition.. after a trip to the vet, they got a clean bill of health and some de-wormer. We are fostering them until we can find them a permanent home.

I am falling in love! They are so adorable. They are brother and sister, both with the same coloring as Frank and Ella, though they're both short hair. The girl has this perfect little orange Indian dot on her forehead. They have long faces and big ears.

At the clinic, I named them Chad and Trixie <333

Foreign rap is strange.

We had to get a gate for Marley, to keep him in the bathroom while we're not at home. He destroys too many things, which is a result of his separation anxiety when we leave him. The lady told us that, being a rescue from a puppy mill, he probably is drunk on the attention we give him when we are home, because we play with him all the time. Leaving him alone makes him angry, and he lashes out. Supposedly, keeping him confined to one space while he's alone will help teach him that there are boundaries.

I have no idea about the whole thing. I generally don't like to keep animals penned up, but I do think it will help our possessions with not getting chewed to hell. And I understand what the lady told us about his separation anxiety. He's still developing, and I think now is a good time to give him boundaries.

Cats meet dog.

So it's been a week and a half, and a few things have changed. I turned 22; I moved out of Ypsilanti and basically told the people who managed that apartment to fuck off and that I'm not paying them a cent; I moved to Ann Arbor with my best friend, I've seen my cats get used to a dog, kinda; I survived a 10-day work week; I met some really cool neighbors; I've gotten used to riding my bike downtown.

Life is so good right now.

Ccccrrrccrcccchhhccrchh.

Giving my cats a ball of aluminum foil to play with was not a good idea, especially late at night. All I hear is "cccrrrcrrrrcrrrrhhhhh." (That's my impression of foil scraping against hardwood floor.)

Frank and Ella's adjustment has been really great. It took them only a day to get comfortable enough to sleep on my bed, yet they haven't taken to sleeping on it with me. I'm kind of glad for that, because I have a tendency not to share my bed. I swear, it's like they know.

Fast forward a week and a half. I have two cats who are mesmerized by my shower, who watch my every move as if it will be something amazing, and who fear the wrath of the almighty spray gun.

And my Chat Noir tapestry is in grave danger.