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Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Tuda/Savannah for Me?


Normally I have a pretty good idea of what I'm going to write about when I sit down to this blog. Not today, though. Kinda crashing over here under the weight of everything that's been going on. Maybe you're like me with a delayed emotional response to life's events. It's useful, right? Enables you to be commander in chief when crisis looms and everyone around you is unraveling. You do your unraveling later. Ha! Reminds me of when Tuda's kittens were born. She was an inbred Siamese - a dainty thing with no clue what was happening to her body. She seemed to lack most normal cat instincts which made her kind of cool because she didn't know she was supposed to be aloof and standoffish. Anyway, when it was time for her to deliver her kittens she didn't nest - didn't find an appropriate corner of a closet to claim as her nursery. Instead she paced Steve's and my bed and when the first kitten came, it came with a gush right between our heads.  Steve was grossed out and exited the scene. "I'm going to sleep in Madeleine's room - good luck." It was just us gals - Tuda and me - it promised to be a long night.

I raced through the house getting supplies: scissors, dental floss, towels forgetting that I was stark naked and freezing (I hate pajamas). In all, there were six babies that came despite Tuda's reluctance to be a mother and take any part in the process. Towards the end, she was so tired I had to massage the babies out of her pushing them out like you would toothpaste. And each baby that was born had a slimy sack that hung deflated from the umbilical cord that connected the newborn kitten to the afterbirth still inside Tuda. With my face inches away, I felt for the cord and tied it with dental floss and then, ever so carefully, being careful not to cut the kitten's tail, I cut the cord. I cleaned up the kitten and waited for Tuda to expel the afterbirth which she was supposed to eat. Only, when I put a few of them up to her face, did a wee bit of instinct kick in and she ate them. The other four went down the toilet. After all six kittens were birthed, did I realize, with concern, I hadn't sterilized the scissors so I dabbed each of the babies' tied off cords with alcohol. There is nothing funnier than seeing a brand new kitten hiss - they were not happy with the sting of the alcohol.  When mother and children were settled and nested I took stock - the bed was a disaster - slimy and wet - I would have to purchase another mattress the next day. I finally put on some clothes and then I had a drink at three in the morning, trembling, after the fact, but proud to have risen to the occasion. Funny, dear memory.

Cutting the blog short today - two things: not feeling inspired and I think I have a virus.  No, not the flu that's going around or the cold I'm just about over, a computer virus.  My cursor is randomly jumping elsewhere on my document when I type and it's making me crazy. Call into my IT support - hopefully it's a quick fix.  Feeling technology frustrated lately. Stuff like a new IPod that won't synch, my Outlook calendar still not synching with my Android, copier broken with a mysterious error message, and more.  Grrrrr.....

No challenge today. Just stay warm.

Peace,
Sarah

Picture is of a Savannah cat - thinking of getting one. They're big and funny.





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