Kitten season may have been here for the past couple of weeks, but I feel as if I can officially declare Kitten Season's arrival when I'm stressed out of my mind.
It's been nothing but emails about food, diarrhea, runny eyes, prolapsed rectums and adorable kitten pictures. This morning, I sent an email "How's the poop situation?" that was supposed to go to foster parent "Edith" - instead it went to my banker "Elaine". (Damn those drop down email menus!) I'm dreading the Monday morning phone call from her. (The banker, that is)
Within several days our "inventory" of cats doubled as kittens have arrived into foster homes ready to love them through adoption. There are kittens arriving under staircases, sheds and in barns. This time of year we have lots of space, but I know in a few short months, adoptions will slow down to a trickle in the warm summer months.
Black kittens that aren't adopted at the young, tiny "cute" stage will become teenagers in our program and be in foster care through Christmas. Adopters will be begging for the calicos and orange kittens. Those who do rescue know that I'm right.
My usual anal organized "Beth" has been replaced with a more scattered version of "Beth", as I'm figuring out who still needs vaccinated, dewormed, or bottlefed. I'm glad David's out of town right now as I'm really fighting the urge to tear out my hair. :)
Yep. Kitten Season is here. Again.