I Hope You Like Kitties. [Journal 3-24-17]

David Lindley – Soul Of A Man.

Figured I’d post about the shelter, since I talk about it here and there. The owner is a very caring and knowledgeable.. wackadoo. She’s hands-down amazing with animals, no doubt about it, but her organizational skills are surprisingly bad, given that she’s been at this for.. decades?

So, I spend most of my time there fixing broken stuff, building random stuff, or organizing the perpetually disorganized building. The place basically looks like the beginning of a hoard. That’s not to say she doesn’t do a great deal for the animals in her care – she could just be far more efficient, and thus more effective. And flatly put, the place is so disorganized that she limits her clientele, and thus potential adopters.

No skin off my ass either way; just giving an idea of how things work there. Anyway, get packed for the guilt trip, because there’s allot of rescue animals that need adopting, and shelters need the funds generated by adoption. Oh, and don’t get me wrong, I usually hate cats: they’re the basic-bitch of the animal kingdom. But some cats are really cool.

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Say hello to Barathrum [I may change his name to Gomez] and Morticia. Barathrum has entropian eyelashes, which means his eyelashes grow on the inside of his exterior eyelids. He’s mostly fine, since cats have interior eyelids, but we’re trying to get a vet on it [no funds]. His owner gave him up, as she’s a stupid whore that didn’t want to take care of him – I assume she had more pressing business under a wealthy man.

Morticia is thusly named, because she came to us nearly dead. We patched her up, then refused to return her to her owner. That idiot had been keeping her around for his idiot kids, and apparently allowing her to repeatedly become pregnant. After the most recent pregnancy, she didn’t eat for four days. That’s when he brought her in, barely moving and covered in filth and sick. We thought she’d die, named her Morticia, and she’s been alive for a month or two now – but she poops weird.

Barathrum is a man’s cat: he’s relaxed as fuck, is affectionate as hell, and will slit your fucking throat if you fuck with him. Morticia usually presses herself in the darkest corner, either completely hiding her eyes from you, or timidly sneaking a peek. Here, you see her actually in the open and looking at me, which seems due to her currently rooming with Barathrum.

Barathrum has been around for months, and had started to become stir-crazy from being alone in his pen. I think the shelter owner kept him solitary because he is.. how to put this.. casually dominant. He doesn’t seek to fuck with anyone, but don’t fuck with him. He’s not interested in “playing” with other cats; only in relaxing, being loving, and publicly executing the corrupt.

We’ve kept Morticia separated to heal, and to placate her reclusivity. She’s generally scared, though seemingly expectant of abuse rather than timid. One assumes she was regularly abused by the retarded children of her former owner. Barathrum will undoubtedly end those savages in a purifying inferno of justice, on principle alone; his burgeoning love may cause him to track down their kin, preventing the future cruelties perpetrated by their pathetic bloodline.

Anyway, those two seem to be getting along like peas and carrots. She seems to feel safer around him, and he seems to enjoy protecting her, but they’ve only just been put together. I really, really hope to see them tangoing soon.

Update: They’re cuddling now. I’m so happy.

Moar Update: Barathrum’s eyes have been fixed, and Morticia is with a friend of the Shelter.

Super Update: They’ve both been adopted, and I miss them. Bart went to a seemingly ideal home, and Mort to a decent one.

~

Here’s Crackles, a turtle run over by a car, whom we patched up. The patch seems to be working. And yes, I know he needs more water; I put more in after the picture.

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Here’s some kittens, whom I have no idea about, but are related.

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~

Here’s Max, a ferret whom enjoys a good escape, flopping about, and my beard. He was recently given up by a spoiled little girl, who’s parents have no comprehension of responsibility or parenthood – though I suppose that statement is superfluous. She just didn’t want to deal with him anymore. I see daddy’s-money-lesbianism in your future, you little shit.

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~ by Louis Naughtic on March 23, 2017.

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