Continued kittens.

In horrible news, my dear Jack Cheese Biscuits is missing. The only thing I can figure is that he fell/jumped/flew off the balcony. But I figure if he was dead I would have found his stiff orange self in the hedge when I got home. Or the neighbors would have. I have put up many signs (very well made by Brett, which is good because mine would have been a pencil sketch) all over the place and gone round to all the vets within a mile or two radius and put them on the lookout. Also craigslist. 

MISS HIM. Have never lost something I was apparently so attached to before. 

But I have not given up. He is pretty crazy and wouldn't know that it should kill him to fall three flights so he probably is scampering around in the sewers giving the rats hell. 

However.

In a very timely move some mother cat had kittens in a prickle bush at SPARC and then left them there. So they are now in a Miller Lite box at my feet drunk and asleep. Yesterday they figured out how to use the bottle. I should lay down a recording of the sucking sounds and pig noises that issue from them. 

There are three. 

One large bushy gray one with rheumatic blue eyes who sticks his tongue out when he sleeps and looks like a koala. He is very vigorous and nurses from everywhere available, like the sofa and my zipper.  He is temporarily named Inappropriate because when I first saw him in his box dying of dehydration he was fighting through the death throes making valiant attempts to nurse off his brother's genitals. I exclaimed "Inappropriate!" So there. Whoever adopts him should probably rename him. Something like Bear. Or Gandolfini.

One small gray one who is apparently a girl and is dainty and likes to mewl and suffer. She always looks like she has a migraine and likes to drape herself pathetically over the nearest side of anything she can stagger to. She is temporarily named Betty Draper due to her suffering. She likes Maggie and Adam a lot. I am relatively disinterested in her.

Then there is a small black thing that might be a bat. He was found way back in the depths of the prickle bushes where his mother had no doubt left him due to his screeching and carrying on. He goes on suicide mission after suicide mission. He is clearly the runt and reminds me of the evil plotting Mogwi that turns into that nasty Gremlin. I like him best. He holds his own bottle when he eats. 

Dirty Dancing is on. I used to love this movie. Now I know what happens so I feel like I am wasting my time watching it.

So anyway. One of the kittens is spoken for- not a specific one, but one.

I am not keeping any of them if I can help it, because clearly if I do, they will turn up dead or vanish in under a year.

Bought the hugest jar of peanut butter I have ever seen the other day. 

I just love opening the windows and listening to the outside. People or birds or parties or rain or whatever. Just LOVE it.