All I could think about is "how many cats will die tomorrow at the shelter where I rescue?" This happens ALL the time and these cats don't have ringworm. (Do I sound bitter?)
Bah! Moving on...
I named my new foster guy "Owen" as a tribute to the actor Owen Wilson. My little Owen still has lots of swelling on the bridge of his nose, and it reminded my son of Owen Wilson. Perfect name! He's definitely not as cute as the kittens I've fostered recently, but this guy is really LOW maintenance! He walked through the door....gave high^5's to all the cats, a token hiss to the dog and he was totally fine. In fact, I let him out of The Land of Dirty Underwear and found him two hours later on MY bed in the middle of all the other cats acting like he's lived here forever:
There was a moment where my big white cat Ozzy looked at him...then looked at me as if to say, "Do I need to go pee on something here?"
Owen has started following me around quite a bit too. Every time I turn around, I'm accidently kicking him. Then I have to run after him, crawling under the dining room table to give him kisses. If you have cats, you know the routine. :)
I'm leaving Saturday for California to visit my daughter. I sometimes forget that she's a grown, professional woman in her own apartment. I'm always tempted to give her unsolicited advice and a lecture about birth control. Once a Mom, always a Mom. I'm almost 50 years old and my Mother still tells me that I overcook the green beans.
But I digress...
I'm doing one more rescue tomorrow before I leave. I'm pretty happy about this small rescue, since I get to rescue a couple of cats that have been there a LONG time. I'll write about them tomorrow.