Minneapolis Adventures

Sorry for the long hiatus during which I wrote approximately two posts, both about Thundercat. My laptop was indisposed.

I don't really have a full report to give, covering in detail what I did in my absence. I only have a few random snippets from various encounters, trips with IrishTenor, shopping expeditions, etc.
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Arbusto: "I had probably the most depressing dream ever last night."
Me: "About what?"
Arbusto: "First, I was a woman."
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While shopping at the Smitten Kitten...
"Great, now I have six flavors of lube on my pants!"
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IrishTenor (on the phone, requesting that I bring him beer): "I want something fizzy and yellow, and it's NOT Mountain Dew."
TheDesigner (in the background, having overheard): "Pee?"
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GrandTheftAutoNephew, the 3-year-old son of IrishTenor's oldest sister, was having a book read to him by TheEngineer, IrishTenor's other sister.

GrandTheftAutoNephew: "Who are they?"
TheEngineer: "Those are the good guys."
GTANephew: "And who are those guys?"
TheEngineer (patiently): "Those are the bad guys."
GTANephew: "But why are they bad?"
TheEngineer (slightly exasperated): "Because they're fighting the good guys."
GTANephew: "But why are they fighting?"
TheEngineer: "Religious differences."
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IrishTenor (after upbraiding me for walking to a nearby Super America alone in the evening): "I don't mean to talk to you like you're stupid, but I'd be upset if anything happened to you. Plus you're weak, and you don't run fast."

Someone found my blog via the Google search query, "How not to be a tool."

Little did they know...

That could be why their visit only lasted 12 seconds.

8:25 AM:
Arrive at the Kitty Klinic.

8:30 AM:
IrishTenor arrives at the Kitty Klinic with Thundercat.

8:32 AM:
Filling out paper work, IrishTenor asks what he should put on the form for the kitten's name. Surprised he would ask, I say, "Thundercat." IrishTenor says he thought the novelty of the misnomer would wear off eventually, so we write, "Morris."

8:40 AM:
The vet and vet techs conclude that although with a kitten this young they would not swear on their diplomas or on the graves of deceased loved ones, they are pretty sure Morris is a girl.

Oops.

Here are some (better) pictures of Thundercat. IrishTenor and I got a little camera happy last night, and here are some of the best shots:


See that face? He's ridiculously cute. However, I promise that he's a little less ridiculously cute when you awaken at 2 AM to him crying in your ear because he wet the bed right next to your head and he's uncomfortable but doesn't know enough to move out of the puddle.

After we cleaned up the mess, he felt up to playing a little bit.

Only it backfired. Oops.

Our adorable kitten (for verification of cuteness, click here), now officially named Thundercat, is in the process of settling in at IrishTenor's apartment. I spent last night there in order to log some quality time with the furry little tyke.

IrishTenor gave the kitten some warm milk last night before bed, because he hadn't been eating anything. Until lights out, Thundercat alternated between visiting the milk bowl and soliciting love from us. We eventually settled into bed, and Thundercat settled in under IrishTenor's night stand.

Things were pretty calm...until about 4:30, at which time Thundercat started crying for mom in his squeaky little kitten meow. IrishTenor fished him out from under the night stand and brought him in bed with us, and that distracted him for awhile. Until 7 - when we finally threw in the towel and just got up - he ran to and fro across our pillows, played with the cord on the blinds, and started crying again whenever one of us stopped petting him.

So to recap, IrishTenor and I have thus far taught this impressionable little feline the following lessons:

1. The cord on the blinds should be regarded as a favorite toy. (Never mind that the other cat is scolded for batting at them.)
   
2. If he cries, we will totally reinforce that by waking up and petting him and making much of him until he purrs. Stop petting and fall asleep, rinse, repeat.
   
3. The curves in Momma's back or on Dad's face make fabulous jungle gyms for a two pound furball who relies on claws to maintain balance.
   
4. A little wet nose or a paw with barely sheathed claws fits PERFECTLY inside a human ear.

It has happened. There has been a new step taken in my relationship with IrishTenor. Together, we are now responsible for a new life. The two of us spent this past weekend visiting IrishTenor's family in Iowa City...and came back with this little guy:

The six-week-old kitten, who was a gift/rescue from IrishTenor's grandmother's farm, spent most of the trip home in my lap; the exception was the few miles during which he managed to climb into a space under the dashboard - we had to stop and fish him out.

He was referred to as Probably a Bad Decision while we threw out other names: Bill (IrishTenor's idea), Rod (also IrishTenor's idea), TheViolinist['s real name], and Carl. We had basically started calling him Bill when I suggested that we continue the Saved by the Bell theme and name him Morris. IrishTenor's other cat Zach is named for Zach Morris, so why not name another kitten for the same character?

IrishTenor liked that idea a lot until he hit upon the name Thunder Cat. After all, who would not think that Thunder Cat was a great name? Who would not want to sit in the waiting room at the vet until "Thunder Cat" was called? Who would not enjoy laughter at the misnomer whenever this kitten is summoned, for the first year of its life?

Clearly, Thunder Cat was the perfect name for this sweet little feline baby. I resigned myself to being labeled a closet He-Man fan for the next twelve to seventeen years. It wasn't until this morning, when IrishTenor asked what name he should give the vet when he made the appointment, that I realized this was still being negotiated.

So it's being discussed. However, I will gladly take votes. Or comments.