Do you remember Flickr’s Take Me to the Kittens! button? I think it would show up to offer you an alternate choice in case you had a change of heart about whatever adult-rated photography you were about to view. Like screw this, there could be ANYTHING beyond this content filter warning, let’s play it safe with a bunch of baby cats.
I had a few months of a real-life Take Me to the Kittens function, and while my life is not teeming with lurid dick pics just waiting to erupt in my face (hm, that sentence sort of got away from me), it was nice to get a dose of fuzzy cheer whenever I wanted. Kittens are remarkably powerful medicine for just about whatever ails you, except allergies.
TC’s kittens all have new owners now, aside from the gray tabby one we decided to keep (his name, embarrassingly, is Catinator. You can blame Dylan for that one, although I have to admit it works with his personality. Catinating the countryside, catinating the peasants …). It was an absolute pleasure being their temporary home base, and if I mayyyyybe went overboard with pictures and overall cat-ladying for a while there, well, fuck it, they made me happy. Take me to the kittens!
We have been left with four pets, which is a little yikes. The flea situation is completely out of control. The dog, not satisfied with her repulsive habit of gorging on fallen apples in the backyard, shitting giant apple-studded piles of horror, then re-eating the apples out of her own shit, has started ecstatically gobbling cat turds out of the litter as if it were a holiday tin of Almond Roca. TC and Catinor eat wet cat food and have you ever smelled wet cat food? JESUS. Callie is pissed at everyone and it’s like living with Andy Rooney. It’s messy and hairy and it’s hard to leave town without executing a complicated logistics plan and the vet bills are insane.
PS: This is my favorite photo of Callie reacting to the kittens. Like she’s an avid poster on some angry childfree forum and she just stumbled across the Duggars.