28 July, 2011

Victory is ours! Now I just need more homes for kittens…

Celebrate, gentle readers! For this morning my beloved husband got the 4th and final of Briar Rose’s kittens into the house, a tiny tabby girl with shades of gold in her coat. And here I am to bring you kitten pictures, because our wild success means that I have two more kittens yearning for homes of their own! Please spread this link far and wide. I’ll get the boilerplate out of the way and then we will proceed to pictures of tiny, cute kittens who want you to love them.

Edit Constantine has a home to go to, but his sister Coriander still needs a place of her own! Surely you or someone you know needs a tiny, exotically beautiful tabby kitten? Judging from her aunties who live with us, she will grow up to be a pretty big girl who likes to sit on people and be petted.

1) They always has a place here. If the new owners cannot keep them for any reason, I will not ask questions, I will not judge, I will not grouse on my blog. I will just come get the cats and bring them back to the Manor.

2) I will drive up to four hours from Fredericksburg, VA to put them in new homes. This covers most of the state of Virginia, a good chunk of Maryland, a good chunk of West Virginia, and even goes as far as Gettysburg, PA (I take the back roads to avoid I-95). Edit: My friend Liz has graciously offered transport 1-2 hours to points north and east of Gettysburg, PA, in comments!

3) They must be indoor kitties. They have lived the outdoor life and now deserve to be safe in a climate-controlled environment with soft beds and lots of toys.

4) No declawing. It’s mean. Just no.

5) Yes, they are adorable. But you know what? Surprise kittens make crap gifts, y’all. Therefore I will need to be in contact with the actual person with whom they will be living. I do not care how well you know your friend/roomie/spouse/partner/parent/sibling/dentist. Kittens are not a good present.

6) As of right now I have no idea how they do with other critters, because they’re still in quarantine. Look for more info after their check-up and FIV/FeLV testing!

EDIT: Constantine has a home! Huzzah!
Constantine, who has only been inside a few days but is already learning to disapprove:
Constantine, a small black and white kitten who is mostly black, with just two small stripes of white on his face, defining the black 'beard' under his chin, sits in classic Egyptian Statue Cat pose and disapproves at the camera.

Coriander, who is still quite scared of this new experience:
Coriander, a small grey and gold tabby kitten with big greenish eyes rimmed with dark eyeliner, lays curled in the green and purple kitten bed and stares at the camera, wide-eyed and fearful.

Since Coriander just came in this morning, we’ll have to give her a few days to relax and get to know us before I can tell you much about her other than “She is drop-dead gorgeous and skinny as heck.” Constantine is coming out of his shell after a couple days in the house and starting to demand his share of love and adoration from the thumb-monkeys under the guidance of his brother Crispin. I suspect that Constantine, too, will be a tiny spikey terrorist loudly demanding love and climbing your leg if you don’t cuddle him fast enough, given enough time!

26 July, 2011

Interesting times!

Yesterday we went up to Dylan’s Silkies and picked up four silkies. I know, you’re shocked, given the name of the place we went.

Please welcome Orias, Malphas, Murmur, and Abaddon. Orias and Malphas are about a month old and are lavender silkies, Murmur is a buff partridge who we sincerely hope is a pullet, and Abaddon is a flame-red boy we strongly suspect of being a rooster. Are there pictures? Of course!

Orias:
Orias, a pearly grey silkie just starting to shift from chick down to adult feathers, crouches in front of my hand for scale. He is teeny tiny, his body about as long as my hand.

Malphas:
Malphas is slightly paler, more of a luminous grey than pearly, and crouches and stares directly into the camera. He is just starting to acquire crest feathers, which are rakishly backswept like a bad combover.

Murmur:
Murmur stands in profile to the camera. Her body has attained ridiculous poofiness, but her head and neck are still working on it. Her crest is starting to develop nicely. Her head, neck, and breast are pale gold, while her wings, back, leg feathers, and poofy tail are ashen grey.

And finally Abaddon the Destroyer, Lord of the Bottomless Pit (and a jewel among silkies):
Abaddon stands with his body in profile to the camera but his face turned toward it, which means that all you can see of his face is his black beak protruding from a floof of flame-red feathers. The trailing edges of his wings and tail have a scattering of black in them. He has achieved a magnificent, incredible, and slightly ridiculous utter floofiness.

And then tonight after dinner, I managed to get a third kitten of Briar Rose’s, the little black and white one. He is painfully skinny and also really frightened of human beings at the moment, so no pictures. He’s safely tucked up in the bathroom with Crispin and Clementine, and we’ve seen to it that there is gooshyfood all around, and Daniel and I sat in there and petted Crispin and Clementine a bit to make them purr thunderously, which relaxed the new guy enough that he crept into the little kitten house (specially re-erected just for him) and then ate the gooshynoms we offered him in there. It’s an auspicious beginning, and I hope to get pics for you, gentle readers, as soon as it will not terrify the bejesus out of the little guy.

Tomorrow we’re off to pick up a trio of red partridge silkies, and then my little flock will pretty much be complete. I’m looking forward to settling in and enjoying my chickens, and next year there will be chicks from my own flock!

25 July, 2011

A Belphegor Retrospective

Baby Belphegor:
Belphegor, a black baby silkie, stands with his entirely fluffy butt to the camera. His head on his long neck is turned in profile to the camera, and you can see the beginnings of what will become a magnificent crest. But generally speaking, since his head is still covered in down while his body has Big Chicken Feathers, he just looks ridiculous.

Adolescent Belphegor:
Belphegor in my hands. He is looking straight at the camera with his head tilted. His crest is starting to grow in, but his neck is still kind of naked in relation to the rest of his body.

Young Adult Belphegor of the present day:
Belphegor rests in my hand. My hand is nearly invisible under all the floof. He looks a little lopsided as he has one wing extended and draped over my wrist, which contributes to the invisibility of my hand. He is probably looking at the camera but you can't tell because his eyes are no longer visible behind the magnificent poofy crest and luxurious beard feathers. He is extravagantly floofy and jet black.

24 July, 2011

Sunday Morning Magic

This morning a pair of miracles occurred and I was party to them, right on my own front porch.

Briar Rose, you see, has had two suitors hanging around — an orange tom we suspect of being Crispin’s daddy if not Clementine’s, and a huge kinda fluffy black and white tom we think is related to Juniper.

They come up to the yard with her and hang out at the edge of the trees, or in the orange tom’s case, about ten feet away off the porch, and wait for us to put the wet food down. We have spoken kindly to them while petting Briar Rose, and crept back inside to give them a chance to eat, watching as they pondered coming closer.

I’ve gotten ten cats inside and into new homes, and the only reason there are tomcats in that list is that they were less than ten weeks old when I snatched them. I’ve never been able to so much as get within three feet of one of the adult toms. The big guys are wary and wild, and tend to react poorly to the sound of the dogs in the house and the sight of a human coming closer.

Until this morning, when the orange tom stayed right there with Briar Rose while I put down the dry food, and then after I put down the wet food I took a risk and offered him my hand, relaxed, palm up, fingers curled. He sniffed it, and then he headbumped it, and then I ran my hand down his muscly back a couple times and he arched into my touch. He went on to the food and I let him go and saw that the big black and white tom had creeped closer. I offered him my hand and he sniffed, ears dubious, but allowed me to scritch his head before going for the food.

They are skinny, in the way of unneutered feral tomcats who are more concerned, sometimes, with girls in heat than with food. They are covered in scabs, the black and white guy in particular, from contending with other toms for access to the girls. Even if I do get them in, I have no idea what will happen to them — it’s easy, with the help of the internet, to place tiny adorable kittens. I’m not so sure I have faith in the ability of even the internet to find homes for two half-wild toms. But maybe now I can at least get them neutered, let them get some weight on and think less of fighting and incidentally help prevent them from furthering the supply of kittens in the neighborhood.

I’ve never seen a Biblical miracle. No waters ever parted for me and time never stood still. Miracles, in my experience, are little things. This morning, in the dim dawn light, two wild and wary tomcats thanked me for my habit of feeding them by letting me scritch them. It’s enough for me.

23 July, 2011

Answering Googled Questions

“What happens if an Eastern Box Turtle bites you?”

Really? Someone is seriously googling this? Look, if you have been bitten by an Eastern Box Turtle, it is because you stuck your finger in front of its face and waited, patiently, sometimes for hours, until the turtle un-boxed and saw your finger, and then you wiggled your finger enticingly, like a worm, and got bitten.

All right, maybe I’m exaggerating, but not by much. C’mon, guys, they are turtles. It is true that turtles can move pretty freaky fast when they want to, but it’s still not as fast as human reflexes. An EBT, unlike a snapping turtle, cannot reach its own sides with its mouth. All you have to do is keep your fingers behind its front legs and you are going to be totally safe.

But if, for some reason, you thought it was a brilliant idea to stick your finger in a box turtle’s mouth, clean it out really well and keep an eye on it for infection. EBTs will eat carrion when given the chance and most reptile mouths are kind of a cesspit of bacteria. So once the turtle lets go (this may take a while) you are at risk for infection.

22 July, 2011

And in other Manor Cat news…

On the first of August, Crispin and Clementine go in to get neutered and spayed, respectively. Then that weekend they head off to their new home, at which point the bathroom will be empty and the plan is to try and bring their mother, Briar Rose, in. We haven’t seen hide or hair of the other two kittens lately, but we have seen several large toms hanging around, and tomcats are rarely if ever good news for kittens. And the time has come to get Briar Rose inside before she gets knocked up again, so in she’ll come.

One of the toms, an orange dude with an interesting narrow face, has been hanging around relatively close when we go outside to take Briar Rose her food. I’m kind of hoping that we can habituate him to people enough to get him neutered, at least, even if we can’t ever make him into an indoor cat. He’d be #11 that I’ve gotten fixed, at least. Crispin and Clementine are numbers 9 and 10, respectively, that I’ve gotten indoors and found new homes for. So I think I’m doing pretty well here, even if two of the ten did settle into life as indoor cats at the Manor and refuse to leave…

21 July, 2011

I love it when they write home.

Recently I got e-mail from Juniper‘s people and it included PICTURES! Oh my goodness, the tiny laid-back kitten has become a big young man. Observe, dear readers:
A large black and white cat, last seen here as a teeny kitten, lies on the floor and affectionately mauls his person's arm. HE IS HUGE.

Isn’t he adorable and GINORMOUS? What you cannot see in that picture is the tag on his collar, which is a little tuxedo front and absolutely perfect for him.

I love a happy ending.

20 July, 2011

Are we all ready for Hatchapalooza 2?

Behold the incubator:
The inside of my incubator, the shell of which is bright yellow. The top is off, and the black egg tray rests inside it. Sixteen eggs in varying shades of pale brown are slotted into the rails. One tiny pale cream egg rests in the upper right-hand corner.

This is actually not the final pic, before I fired it up I stuck one of Ayinnanku’s beautiful blue-green eggs in it, and the next day the banty hen that’s laying (I’m not sure which one it is!) provided me with two more eggs, so I went ahead and stuck them in there, too, for a grand total of three tiny eggs, sixteen pale brown ones, and one beautiful blue-green egg. The pale brown eggs are blue-laced red Wyandottes and were mail-order eggs that I’m hatching for Christine. Mail order eggs have a notoriously low hatching rate; you’re doing well if you get 50% of them to develop. So we’re expecting at most eight little chickens from those, which will go and live with Christine at Blackthorn kennel. There’s a 50/50 chance that the chick in Ayinnanku’s egg will have a naked neck like our rooster, Mad Mel the Magnificent, and Lord only knows what’s in those bantam eggs. I mean, we’re pretty sure that chickens will hatch out of them, but which of the multitude of bantam roosters fertilized them is a great mystery, as is the identity of the hen that laid them.

Excitingly, the eggs will theoretically hatch the same weekend Crispin and Clementine go to their new home. That’s going to be a fun and busy weekend, given my deep desire to sit adn stare at hatching eggs. And this time I will remind myself to take the egg rails down when I take the incubator off the turner, so the poor baby chicks don’t have to jump from rail to rail and have an easier time getting out of their eggs.

As always, you can watch my Twitter account (civilwarbore) for live-tweeting of any hatching-related excitement. But it will be a couple weeks.

18 July, 2011

Monday Morning Kittens

Because why should I get all the kitteny goodness?

Crispin and Clementine lay on their bed. Crispin, on the left, is on his back with his legs stretched out and is looking at the camera disapprovingly. Clementine is curled up against his side with her head on his shoulder, looking up at the camera from the corner of her eye.

Thank goodness these two have a home already.

14 July, 2011

Oh my darlin, oh my darlin…

Edit The internet works in record time! Clementine has a home to go to and the Best Mother Ever is saved from temptation!

Oh my darlin, Clementine!
Clementine, a small fluffy kitten who is mostly grey with white undercarriage and a big yellow triangle in the middle of her face, lies with her body on its side and her head upside down, looking at the camera.

Look at that face. That is the face of a kitten who needs a place to live that is not our bathroom. Seriously, look at it.

Clementine again, but this time with her head turned sideways She has green eyes with a ring of blue around the pupil, and is wearing very chic eyeliner.

This is after twelve hours as a house kitten. She purrs. She snuggles. She projects an adorabubble that can bring strong men to their knees saying things like “Aren’t you precious, yes you are.” in a fabulous English accent.

Sometimes, she is even upright:
Clementine one last time, this time with her head actually upright.

You know the drill, gentle readers. And we need to find her a home before the Best Mother Ever sees her. The Best Mother Ever has a weakness for calicos, but she’s on vacation and not checking the internet much for the next week. You have seven days, internet! Meanwhile, she goes to the vet for initial vetting on Monday, at which point I will be able to tell you more about her health status. So far, she gets along well with her brother Crispin, but has not met anyone else and shows a distinct lack of interest in meeting dogs.

Standard Kitten Boilerplate:
1) She always has a place here. If the new owner cannot keep her for any reason, I will not ask questions, I will not judge, I will not grouse on my blog. I will just come get the cat and bring her back to the Manor.

2) I will drive up to four hours from Fredericksburg, VA to put her in a new home. This covers most of the state of Virginia, a good chunk of Maryland, a good chunk of West Virginia, and even goes as far as Gettysburg, PA (I take the back roads to avoid I-95).

3) She must be an indoor kitty. Clementine has lived the outdoor life and now deserves to be safe in a climate-controlled environment with soft beds and lots of toys.

4) No declawing. It’s mean. Just no.

5) Yes, she is adorable. But you know what? Surprise kittens make crap gifts, y’all. Therefore I will need to be in contact with the actual person with whom young miss Clementine will be living. I do not care how well you know your friend/roomie/spouse/partner/parent/sibling/dentist. Clementine is not a good present.

6) As of right now I have no idea how she does with other critters, because she’s still in quarantine. Look for more info after her check-up and FIV/FeLV testing!

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