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In which I am frustrated by life.

So I’ve gone from three pregnant cats hanging around the Manor to zero pregnant cats hanging around the Manor, with no actual reduction in the number of cats, just the number of pregnancies. Grace and Noodlehead show up every morning like clockwork for breakfast, Briar Rose is a more occasional visitor. Noodlehead just gave birth yesterday. Or at least she looked preggers when I gave her breakfast, and around dinner time there she was, significantly thinner and vastly cuddly just like she was LAST time she gave birth.

The fur around Grace’s nipples is definitely stuck down with kitten spit, we’ll see about Noodlehead who either gave birth somewhere in the immediate vicinity of the Manor, had another litter of stillborn kittens, or had live kittens but is ignoring them. She heavily contemplated coming in the house despite dogs and despite the fact that last time I brought her in she tried to go through a wall. Sigh. If I didn’t have resident cats to protect from potential diseases and parasites, I’d let her wander in at her own speed, but as it is I’m defending the Usual Suspects here and feeling slightly overwhelmed with cats.

At least by the time Grace’s kittens are old enough to be brought around (and possibly Briar Rose’s and Noodlehead’s, if there are any) Daniel will be here and I’ll have some help on the love, attention, and deferalification of small fuzzballs. But Jesus, I need to figure out how to get the girls spayed. The primary problem (well, after the part where I don’t want to take them away from potential kittens for a day and a half) being that all the vets want a week’s notice and it’s not like the girls are amenable to me being their social secretary.

But I’ll just have to figure it out, because I can’t keep doing kittens, and neither can they.

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