RachelRichardson.org

I sincerely believe that if anyone who is considering having a child were required to first either foster an non-housebroken puppy or hand-feed a litter of kittens, I predict the national birth rate would see a sizable decrease. I (stupidly?) agreed a couple of weeks ago to bottle-feed five orphaned kittens whose mother was killed by a raccoon or other animal. I bottle-fed my Teddy seven years ago and now he’s the fattest cat I have, so I assumed an aura of expertise and volunteered to take on these babies. Of course back then, I had only Teddy and his brother (who died a couple of weeks later from pneumonia), and so I wasn’t quite prepared for five mewling black nursing holes. We’ve settled into somewhat of a feeding routine, but I swear that the little runt of the litter, Miles, has the feline equivalent of colic. He’s gained weight, but he’s still smaller and less active than the rest and the other four tend to try to nurse off of him, so I have to sequester him often.

The Richardson-Kinman Home for Wayward Animals has now officially become a critter nursery. I still have the three mini-lop babies born March 8, although applications are pending for two of them (they can’t be released until June, when they are mature enough to be spayed/neutered). And last week we got a call from the SPCA saying that someone had turned in two bunnies, one of which had a litter of four kits several days later. Shelters, especially one as large as our SPCA, can be very threatening environments for rabbits and could cause them to reject the babies or even harm them, so although I was maxed out on my pens, I pulled the mom and babies anyway. May 9 was conveniently my birthday and so I used some of the Lowe’s giftcards I received to purchase materials for Brandon to build a new temporary pen for the brood.

Warning: Cuteness overload, coming up!

The first litter of babies: Basil, Clover and Dahlia (apps pending for Clover and Dahlia)

The five orphan kittens: Davis, Ella, Lil (Lily), Louie and Miles in the background

And the mom (Marigold) and babies I just pulled last week

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When writing about Thanksgiving, I’m mindful that it’s traditional, especially for women, to dwell on one of these tried and true topics:

* How to Prepare the Perfect Sumptuous Thanksgiving Bounty with All The Trimmings

* How to Avoid Going Berserk and Attacking Your Annoying Relatives and In-Laws with a Carving Knife

* How Not to Eat a Bazillion Calories and Subsequently Watch Your Ass Double in Size

* Why, Two Decades After Second-Wave Feminism, Women Still Slave Away in the Kitchen While Men Get to Sit on Their Asses and Watch Football All Day

* Or, the most popular of subjects: Feeling All Thankful and Shit

I’m generally not the kind of person to make a maudlin list of things I’m thankful for, but it does seem to be the obligatory Thanksgiving cliche, so I’ll bite. It goes without saying, of course, that I’m thankful for my friends and family, good (mental and physical) health and that I live in a country where I am free to make such sappy and mushy posts like this one. So, here goes a list of 10 random things I am thankful for:

A job

Considering all the layoffs this year, especially in my field of journalism, I am so grateful that I am still gainfully employed in a job that, for the most part, I love and doesn’t keep my ass confined in cubicle hell.

The Internet

I am so, so glad Al Gore invented this, because how else could I waste time when I should be working than by playing Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook? The Internet also gives me the power to work from home, the opportunity to pursue my passions and hobbies, a soapbox by which I can unleash all my innermost rants and raves and allows me to cheaply indulge my book-buying compulsions. But most of all, it’s allowed me to meet so many awesome people — not to mention, my husband — and to discover and read dozens of smart, witty bloggers. Thanks, Al!

My furbabies

My kitties give me so much and all they ask for in return are food (preferably canned), shelter and the occasional rub behind the ears. I am so grateful for them, as well as the chance to open our home this year to two more unwanted kittens and one traumatized cat.

Morningstar Farms

Seriously, because I think we’d be reduced to eating peanut butter and jelly most days if not for its easy-to-fix line of faux meat products.

Dark chocolate, avocados, eggs, coffee, peanut butter, sunshine

And everything else “experts” warned us were harmful that have turned out to be good for us, after all.

My brother and sister-in-law’s poor planning

Their admitted carelessness means that I’ll be getting a new (and our family’s first) nephew in December! I am so very grateful for the chance to mold little Chase into a Bruce Cockburn-loving, tree-hugging, feminist, vegetarian, lefty Pittsburgh Steeler’s fan.

Having a great stylist on speed dial

My prematurely-bald husband simply doesn’t understand how a good or bad hair day can set the tone for the entire day. Yay for a stylist who knows how to cut short hair well!

Netflix and my DVR

I am grateful for Netflix for how else could I wile away the weekends catching up on the entire 11 seasons of Law & Order: SVU on demand? And to my DVR, for allowing me to mercifully fast forward through those god-awful Jenny Craig and Nutrisystem TV commercials.

Bruce Cockburn

And his 28 (29?) albums that have managed to both sooth and preserve my sanity all these years.

Adderall (and a good prescription health care plan)

Since going on Adderall for ADD a couple years ago, I now no longer have to embark on a daily hunt for my car keys (and other misplaced items) and have managed to actually finish a few projects through to completion. Hurrah for legal amphetamines!

Posted in Animal Tales, Family, Food, Vegetarianism | 1 Comment »

“So, how many cats do you have now?” asked the blonde veterinary technical as she prepared the bill for the kittens’ last round of vaccinations last night.

“Umm,” I hesitated, anticipating the wide-eyed look that was sure to follow. “Sebastian and Sydney make six and then I have a foster kitty. It’s like a feline Brady Bunch.” I omitted mention of the four neighborhood cats who’ve laid claim to our front porch.

The eyes widened, but only slightly. I would find out later that she has her own fair share of furbabies, and recently rescued the momma cat and kittens left by her neighbors when they moved to Florida. There is a shared understanding among suckers for a furry face in that we are all patients in the same mental ward.

“So, who are you with?” she asked.

“Who am I with?” I asked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, I mean, which rescue organization are you with?” she replied.

“I’m not,” I said, with a laugh. “Oh, no, the craziness is all mine.”

—————————————————————-

Meet Sebastian and Sydney, and foster kitty Nigel (who we’ll also probably end up keeping)

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Just a few random observations from the past week…

- It always promises to be an interesting class when the prof admits she’s hung over.

- The city once known as Porkopolis is now encouraging residents to eat, well, less pork (and other meat).

- If you park on the sidewalk, Newport Police will ticket you.

- Bunnies love cherry-flavored pediatric medicine.

- RuPaul out of drag (and wearing glasses) looks a lot like Cincinnati Mayor Mark Malllory.

Posted in Academics, Animal Tales, Personal, Pop Culture, The Weird, Vegetarianism | 1 Comment »

I took Harry the bunny in to be neutered at the vet’s office a couple of weeks ago but had to hold off on getting the white bunny neutered until he gained more weight. Here’s the conversation that followed when scheduling the second appointment:

Me: Hi, I’d like to make an appointment to get my rabbit neutered.

Vet Clerk: What’s your name and phone number? Looks it up. Is this for the same rabbit?

Me: No, I’m pretty sure he’s good.

Speaking of which… I named Harry after one of my favorite presidents, Harry Truman (yeah, I’m kind of a history nerd that way), but perhaps Harry Houdini would have been more befitting. Outside of his cage, the boy and I have yet to construct a barricade or pen that would keep him. We finally succeeded over the weekend in building a rabbit-proof rumpus room pen in the basement. Yes, we were quite proud to have finally triumphed over a 5-pound rabbit who eats his own poo.

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