Kitteh needz homez.

My friends call me Noah Natalie and Dr. Doolittle.  There’s a reason for this.  All animals come to me.  Homeless and afraid?  Go find Natalie.  There must be some secret animal society out there with a list of the top 10 suckers who will take in any living, breathing creature if it needs help.  I’m #1 on the list.  My sister is #2. 

I don’t mind.  My husband, on the other hand, does mind.  You see, he loves me, but he does not love animals – at least not to the same degree that I love them. So, this causes problems. Anytime another animal sees the word “Sucker” written on my forehead, my husband gives me the “You’re not taking this animal in” look.  Being the wife I am, I disregard that look and take them in anyway.  I’m a feisty one.

But enough about me.

Here's the reason for this post.  Another kitten has found me, Noah Natalie, and he needs a good home.  A home where he will be loved and cherished for the rest of his life.  A kitten this cute deserves that, right?

His name is Cheeto. Or Boodan (Boudin - don't ask me why I named him after sausage). I'm still deciding which name fits him better. Cheebo is kinda cute - it's a good mix.

Here he is climbing up my leg.   

Here he is climbing my leg again.  He’s a leg man, I guess. 

Excuse the blurriness.  It’s not exactly easy to photograph an energetic kitten.

See what I mean?  Not easy! 

Anyway – Cheebo/Cheeto/Boodan is the sweetest, most loveable kitten I’ve ever fostered.  He will make a wonderful pet for a loving family.  I am willing to drive a reasonable distance to bring him to you if you’re interested.  Please just send me an e-mail and I'll get back to you as quickly as possible.

Please feel free to pass along this information to anyone you know who may be in the market for a new kitty. I appreciate your help (and so does Cheebo/Cheeto/Boodan). :)

House O' Horrors.

I've purchased the Money Pit.

I'm serious.

It was all shiny and pretty and new and glorious. Now here I am, two years later, sleeping on my sofa, drenched in sweat, sliding down my hallway on pools of sweat like I'm riding a magic slip-n-slide.

I live in a very hot area that is known for having miserably hot summers and relentless humidity. Couple that with a defective A/C unit, and you have a home that would make Satan sweat.

It's aggravating. We're outside of the 1 year Homeowner's warranty, of course, so any labor fees that will be incurred while the A/C guy is fixing our unit will come out of our own pockets. So much for Anna's college fund. (Just kidding.)

Truth be told, the A/C has never worked properly. We've just been putting band-aids over it hoping it'll last just one more year. It makes no sense to us why we're even having to deal with this right now since everything is, ahem, BRAND NEW! Ugh! Cheap American crap (as my late grandfather used to say)!

So, while I'm sitting here in my air-conditioned office at work, I'm just hoping and praying that the A/C guy can 1) fix our unit today and 2) not charge us a fee that will send us into bankruptcy.

Money Pit reason #2:

After the A/C man leaves, I will have to call a Sears guy to come out and repair our oven. It doesn't bake. Isn't that it's main purpose in life? To bake? It's two years old, I never bake, why is it already broken?

It's quite ironic how badly you miss something once you realize it's no longer working. Case in point, I wanted to make brownies the other day. I knew the oven was broken but had a brain fart at that exact moment and began to make the brownies. Halfway through I realized, DOH, my oven is broken. Nixed that idea. Now all I want to do is bake. I want to make cookies, and pies and cakes and brownies and casseroles and everything else that can be baked simply because I can't. It's driving me crazy.

My whole house is driving me crazy.

Oh, and when I was opening the attic stairs, I wasn't paying attention and the staircase fell on top of my head. So, not only was I hot and sweaty, I was also partially catatonic from the head injury. Good times.

I will post lots of pictures from the 4th once I can stomach sitting in my home office. I tried to upload the pictures yesterday and nearly passed out from the heat - and I'm not being dramatic.

On top of all the madness, I found a little stray kitten yesterday who desperately needs a home (that I can't provide). Any takers? Major karma points for you!

Edited to add: I just read this entry and realized how uber negative it sounds. You'd be negative, too, if you woke up in your own pool of sweat. ;)

A Beagle, A Lottery Ticket and a Dream.

I am kind of anxious and excited right now - I'll tell you why.

Yesterday, on my way home from work, I saw a beagle running up and down one of the busiest streets in my area. It was quite evident that the dog was someone's beloved pet, so I turned my car around just in time to see it almost get hit. I knew at that point - 100 that I had to get the dog out of that situation. I'm always a bit apprehensive in dog rescue situations because I'm never sure of the dog's temperament or how I will handle the situation once I actually have the animal in my car - what if I can't find its owners, what if I can't find someone to adopt it, etc.

So, throwing caution to the wind (this is the first time I've used that phrase in a sentence - I like it), I pulled on a side street and used my best "call dog" voice possible "Come here, baby, come here darlin'!" Like a pro, the little dog turned around and ran over to me like we'd been pals for years. What a cute, cute beagle (one of my favorite breeds)! So, I picked the dog up and put her in my car. Actually, I opened my car door, and she jumped right in. At that point I KNEW she was someone's pet - also the huge dog tag dangling from her neck was a good indication.

So, first thing's first - what's her name? Gypsy. Cute. It's obvious from her running away shenanigans that the name suits her pefectly. Is there a phone number? YES! So, I nervously dialed the number from my cell phone hoping that her owner would pick up. Answering machine. DAMN! Ok, so I left a message. On to the next number. Within a second Gypsy's owner answered the phone. I explained to him that I had his dog and that she was running around on a busy street. He and a friend had been out looking for her. She must've turned into David Copperfield for a second and escaped without a trace.

So, we made plans to meet at my office b/c he lived down a nearby street and was out and about anyway. I get to my office and he's already there waiting for me. He's super excited that he found his dog and extremely grateful. He kept calling me a "good samaritan" and telling me "you done good, girl". I was very happy to be able to facilite a reunion with his dog. I could tell that she was well taken care of. I went home and kind of forgot about the whole situation.

Fast forward to today.

I get back from having lunch with my co-workers, and one of my other co-workers tells me that the man brought by a card for me and told her about what had happened. Up until this point, I hadn't told the story to anyone because I didn't really think they'd care. So, I explained everything to them. They know how much of an animal fanatic I am, so it came as no surprise to them.

Well, I was quite surprised! When I opened the card the man gave me, 5 lottery tickets fell out. I'm not much for the lotto - Joe and I will buy one or two tickets every once in a while, but I never pay it too much mind. I do have to admit, though, now I'm kind of excited to see how this pans out. It's kind of like the "pay it forward" principle. If you haven't seen the movie, go out and rent it tonight. Does one good deed really transpire into more good deeds? What if these lottery tickets are actually worth something? How crazy would that be? I will have to keep you posted.