My Poor Kitties. My Poor Parents.
My parents are currently in New York at JFK airport. They've been there for six hours, and counting.
Worse still, they have my cats.
Because we wanted Sam's kitty to have a chance to stake out his territory before my cats arrived, Sprouty and Meatsock stayed with my parents. They're happy there, showered with attention: my dad lets them attack his feet while he reads, my mom feeds them seaweed (which they LOVE, oddly enough), and they get to play in the backyard and catch birds. (Then they bring the birds inside to show my parents, and get even MORE attention.) So the plan was for my parents to come out and visit and deliver the creatures.
This morning they flew from Salt Lake to New York fine, but the flight they were booked on from there to here was cancelled. They were standby for a 7pm flight, but that didn't work out. So they are stuck there until 10:30.
My parents are frazzled and bored enough. Imagine my cats. They're stuck in these little bags; they haven't eaten since 6pm yesterday (as a precaution against accidents); they're high as kites on tranquilizers, and they're not happy. They're frantic, actually. Sprout, the mama, is a dignified soul. She's been sitting quietly in her little black bag. The baby, on the other hand, is not as dignified. He's been crying, downright moaning, my mother says. They're drawing all sorts of attention from passersby.
They tried to feed them a tuna sandwich, by they're both so high that they can't figure out how to chew. And still Meatsock cries. My mom said at one point he was on my dad's lap, on his back like a baby, with his mouth hanging open while my dad scratched his belly. Did I mention this was in the middle of JFK airport? Check out the cat people.
I'll just be glad when they're all here, safe in my little house. I will give my kitties some cat food and show them their litter box (which we've set up with a room divider so it's like their own little bathroom) and scratch they're necks and give them kisses and introduce them to their new brother Tadzio. (They won't like the Tadzio part any more than he will.) And I will give my parents clean towels and show them the bathtub and the warm bed with clean sheets and in the morning I will feed them blueberry yogurt and apples.
I don't like airplanes or airlines or airports. I like kitties and parents and here with me.
Worse still, they have my cats.
Because we wanted Sam's kitty to have a chance to stake out his territory before my cats arrived, Sprouty and Meatsock stayed with my parents. They're happy there, showered with attention: my dad lets them attack his feet while he reads, my mom feeds them seaweed (which they LOVE, oddly enough), and they get to play in the backyard and catch birds. (Then they bring the birds inside to show my parents, and get even MORE attention.) So the plan was for my parents to come out and visit and deliver the creatures.
This morning they flew from Salt Lake to New York fine, but the flight they were booked on from there to here was cancelled. They were standby for a 7pm flight, but that didn't work out. So they are stuck there until 10:30.
My parents are frazzled and bored enough. Imagine my cats. They're stuck in these little bags; they haven't eaten since 6pm yesterday (as a precaution against accidents); they're high as kites on tranquilizers, and they're not happy. They're frantic, actually. Sprout, the mama, is a dignified soul. She's been sitting quietly in her little black bag. The baby, on the other hand, is not as dignified. He's been crying, downright moaning, my mother says. They're drawing all sorts of attention from passersby.
They tried to feed them a tuna sandwich, by they're both so high that they can't figure out how to chew. And still Meatsock cries. My mom said at one point he was on my dad's lap, on his back like a baby, with his mouth hanging open while my dad scratched his belly. Did I mention this was in the middle of JFK airport? Check out the cat people.
I'll just be glad when they're all here, safe in my little house. I will give my kitties some cat food and show them their litter box (which we've set up with a room divider so it's like their own little bathroom) and scratch they're necks and give them kisses and introduce them to their new brother Tadzio. (They won't like the Tadzio part any more than he will.) And I will give my parents clean towels and show them the bathtub and the warm bed with clean sheets and in the morning I will feed them blueberry yogurt and apples.
I don't like airplanes or airlines or airports. I like kitties and parents and here with me.
Comments