What you see to your right is Wolfgang Heinrich, 40, from the German town Wiesenburg. Oh, and Wolfgang's horse and steadfast friend, Sammy.
Wolfgang took a ride on a distinctly non-balmy night and stopped to share a drink or two with friends at a local pub.
When Wolfgang stumbled out of the pub he realized he was drunk. Too drunk for a long trek home on horseback.
Wisely, Wolfgang sought shelter for Sammy and himself on that cold evening. He used his bank card to open up a nearby bank foyer snoozed the night away.
And I spoil the hell out of these babies. Most have had very negative backgrounds and I feel humans, on a whole, need to make it up to them.
So a few I spoil with impunity. One of those is Tory, a Persian who came to us via Ruth Jordan who found Tor-tor covered with mattes and fleas and bone thin. Tory's former owners didn't like the up-keep of a long-hair and dumped her and her sister.
We shaved a pound and a half of mattes of that poor girl. She is still a little thing even after a long period of intense spoiling. Every morning I find her in her latest sleeping spot and she greets me with a paw stretch and a rumble purr. I carry the princess to the table in the kitchen and give her a can of wet food she splits with another skinny cat named Flynn who lost all his teeth.
Today when I set her down, she didn't go to the food.
She went to an open container of butter someone left on the table. We'll see what a breakfast of kitty lube does to her throughout the day.
I hope that on this fine, rainy day our other mommy, Cassie, will finally have her litter. Cassie has grown wider and wider everyday and is at the point that I question how much bigger she can get without exploding kittens. I rub her vast belly as she asks me, "When will it end?"
I remind her that she's the one that got herself into this situation to which she replies, "I was just being friendly! Now, get that spot on my back I haven't been able to reach for a week, wouldja?"
Tabitha, who birthed her babies in a big, wet rush on Friday, is doing beautifully. She is the most emaciated of any of the foster mom's we've had here and she is getting waaaaaaaaay spoiled. I hold the food bowl so she doesn't have to leave her five squealers to eat.
At not even a day old, the all black kitten, Desi, was hissing at my strange non-mommy scent as I rubbed Tabitha's back. What a tough-ass! I was, of course, suitable terrified.
And, if you're a lover and a fighter:
Thank you Chris's Invincible Superblog!