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mad_andy*Punts LJ*
This is the entry I made last night just before going to bed!
Happier work related stuff did happen today. Most notably?
I got to cuddle four two-day-old kittens.
The story goes like this:
Old lady has old cat. Old cat dies. Old lady gets a kitten. Kitten matures as fast as kittens will - and six months later is pregnant. Old lady, sadly, can no longer cope alone and has to go into a home, leaving young cat with daughter - who has a family and a life of her own and with the best will in the world has neither the time, money nor inclination to deal with a cat who has spent her whole life so far as the centre of attention.
Cat starts to wander.
Cat is hit by a car.
Daughter brings cat in, upset and tearing her hair out. Here's an animal she didn't want, never planned to have but is not prepared to see suffer - that needs several hundred quid's worth of orthopaedic work doing and is about to produce kittens. She'd been trying to find her another home, but who's going to take on a pregnant cat with a bust femur?
She doesn't see that she has many options. She thinks it's curtains for the cat.
It's at this point I remember why, despite all the wrangling and narrow-minded crap that hits the fan at work, I love working for my boss.
Daughter signs paperwork, cat now belongs to practice until she's rehomed.
Her leg is fixed, she recovers happily in a kennel then is moved into the flat upstairs - where, two weeks later, she produces four healthy kittens in front of a delighted nurse on night duty. Two English torties and two black and white boys. Mother and babies are doing swimmingly, you'll be pleased to hear!
So I went and stuck my head over the arm of the sofa in the flat (after spending ten minutes or so cuddling mum - this was before it all went tits up!) to say hello to the kittens. They were heaped up, fast asleep, bellies full. Mum came and sat next to them, purring loud enough to wake the dead when I told her what a clever old thing she was; she was quite happy for me to pick them up and have a closer look, purring all the while, chest puffed out with pride as I looked at her babies.
The kittens were somewhat less impressed. But there's something absolutely breathtaking about holding such a tiny scrap of life in your hands, feel its heart beat against your fingers, its claws tug at your skin as it searches for its mum. Their heads are no bigger than the top of my thumb, their eyes are closed, they have no teeth; but they move strongly, and you can already see personalities emerging.
It's...magical.
And it's a damn good job that they are going to a foster home this weekend, or come the six-week mark I would be sore, sore tempted to see if four cats would live together happily!
To be honest, these kittens would get a raw deal with me; they deserve one or two cat homes where they'll be the centre of attention. Not having to jostle with the rest of my mob carving out a niche for themselves....
Besides, I look at Jack Sparrow (flat on his back, all three and a half legs in the air, doing his best impression of roadkill), Xev (sulking because her doggy is in kennels for the weekend) and Webster (mentally challenged but awfully pretty) and think - I've got all I need right here.
But there. It's not all fly larvae and stress. Sometimes you really do get chance to stop and cuddle the kittens!
(ETA: Sorry about lack of cut - when I use lj-cut it hides whole entry. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeird.)
This is the entry I made last night just before going to bed!
Happier work related stuff did happen today. Most notably?
I got to cuddle four two-day-old kittens.
The story goes like this:
Old lady has old cat. Old cat dies. Old lady gets a kitten. Kitten matures as fast as kittens will - and six months later is pregnant. Old lady, sadly, can no longer cope alone and has to go into a home, leaving young cat with daughter - who has a family and a life of her own and with the best will in the world has neither the time, money nor inclination to deal with a cat who has spent her whole life so far as the centre of attention.
Cat starts to wander.
Cat is hit by a car.
Daughter brings cat in, upset and tearing her hair out. Here's an animal she didn't want, never planned to have but is not prepared to see suffer - that needs several hundred quid's worth of orthopaedic work doing and is about to produce kittens. She'd been trying to find her another home, but who's going to take on a pregnant cat with a bust femur?
She doesn't see that she has many options. She thinks it's curtains for the cat.
It's at this point I remember why, despite all the wrangling and narrow-minded crap that hits the fan at work, I love working for my boss.
Daughter signs paperwork, cat now belongs to practice until she's rehomed.
Her leg is fixed, she recovers happily in a kennel then is moved into the flat upstairs - where, two weeks later, she produces four healthy kittens in front of a delighted nurse on night duty. Two English torties and two black and white boys. Mother and babies are doing swimmingly, you'll be pleased to hear!
So I went and stuck my head over the arm of the sofa in the flat (after spending ten minutes or so cuddling mum - this was before it all went tits up!) to say hello to the kittens. They were heaped up, fast asleep, bellies full. Mum came and sat next to them, purring loud enough to wake the dead when I told her what a clever old thing she was; she was quite happy for me to pick them up and have a closer look, purring all the while, chest puffed out with pride as I looked at her babies.
The kittens were somewhat less impressed. But there's something absolutely breathtaking about holding such a tiny scrap of life in your hands, feel its heart beat against your fingers, its claws tug at your skin as it searches for its mum. Their heads are no bigger than the top of my thumb, their eyes are closed, they have no teeth; but they move strongly, and you can already see personalities emerging.
It's...magical.
And it's a damn good job that they are going to a foster home this weekend, or come the six-week mark I would be sore, sore tempted to see if four cats would live together happily!
To be honest, these kittens would get a raw deal with me; they deserve one or two cat homes where they'll be the centre of attention. Not having to jostle with the rest of my mob carving out a niche for themselves....
Besides, I look at Jack Sparrow (flat on his back, all three and a half legs in the air, doing his best impression of roadkill), Xev (sulking because her doggy is in kennels for the weekend) and Webster (mentally challenged but awfully pretty) and think - I've got all I need right here.
But there. It's not all fly larvae and stress. Sometimes you really do get chance to stop and cuddle the kittens!
(ETA: Sorry about lack of cut - when I use lj-cut it hides whole entry. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeird.)