Good news from Soonergrunt:
dont feel good at all. relly hurt but have good drug on cool iv button thing. doc said op went verry well and be happy. Also my phone im typing this on sucks. Will hae more 2morow when less stoned.
(The man is made of stern stuff. Worst I’ve ever had done to me surgically, knock wood, was an uncomplicated old-fashioned gallbladder removal, and I still don’t remember anything from the ensuing 48 hours or so.)
From commentor Linda M:
The rescue of these two little girls was a happy accident. It had been about 9 months since we lost our previous cat, and I was just not ready to get into another relationship. My husband, who had just been rescued himself by a wonderful team: an oncologist, radiologist, and thoracic surgeon, was feeling spiffy and optimistic after surviving lung surgery. He was ready to take the plunge and go to the shelter to find one adorable fuzz ball to cuddle. One day I was informed that he was going over to the shelter, with or without me. Being the control freak I am, I couldn’t let him go alone, so I said I would go only to look.
There were cages and cages of kittens in the lobby. Due to the cuteness factor, I think most kittens get rescued first. I love any size cat: kitten, adolescent, mature, elderly, but we have always made a point to adopt at least an adolescent. So, we went straight to the room where the “older” kittehs are kept. We worked out a plan that we would only stand in front of the cage and let the kitty come to us; if the kitty wouldn’t come to the front of the cage, it was a sign that there was no chemistry between the kitty and the human. As we stepped up to a cage where these two beauties lounged, they both came forward and rubbed against the door of the cage and looked straight at both of us. The tag on the cage noted that they were littermates and they had been in the shelter for six months. Awwww. These little girls were only 13 months old, and they had been at this shelter for six months—breaks my heart. And, oh, by the way, the cage tag identified them and Paris and Nikki.
I opened the cage door and took them into the private room where we could all sit together and let our smells mingle. These girls crawled all over us, and we couldn’t keep our hands off of them. We decided that they had to go with us—immediately. There was no going home to think about it, no vacillating over should we get just one. This was it; we were in love! We filled out all the papers and got them out of there as fast as we could. When we got home and let them out of their carriers, they just trotted around as though they had always lived in our house—never once did they go hide or disappear behind the furnace—they were home and they knew it! Oh, and, by the way, name changes were in order. They are now Emily and Sissy. Two of the sweetest girls in the world!