nagging pays off for the young

We got off to a slow start this kitten season. First, the annual kick-off, state-of-the-kitten-rescue event occurred when I was still convalescing from surgery. I made it clear to the children that I needed to get my energy level back up before we could get foster kittens (and indeed, at the beginning of the season there are very few foster kittens, not enough to go around with everyone craving kittens after taking the winter off. It's a different story at the end of the summer, with kittens pouring in at the shelter and people working the phones trying to get "someone, anyone, for the love of god could someone just come down and pick up seven more kittens, we're overwhelmed down here").

Then my poor Ray Charles became incontinent and miserable, and I needed to see him to the end of his pathetically short lifespan first. The children could not take this point and were relentless in their nagging.

"When are we getting kittens? Are we getting kittens today? Did you call Toni? Did Toni call?" they harangued me night and day. The end of school, with no kittens, meant a ceaseless day of nagging for me.

Finally I called Toni, the Mother Teresa of Kittens, and said, "These children are hounding me night and day for kittens. I can't take it any more. I have to bring home some kittens tomorrow. Whatever you've got, save it for me."

Now we have four very fluffy gray and white kittens, very tiny ones, found on Potrero Hill. They eat by themselves, but I have to puree their food first. They are cute and messy beyond belief. But do the children spend the day playing with them? No, they do not. They go off to play Club Penguin or Webkinz on line. It's just old Mommy left to do the work of the kittens. I'm missing my dear Ray so much, as Ray always played with and groomed last year's foster kittens, carrying them around and basically running their lives. He was a veritable feline Auntie Mame.