Furry and Feathered Family Folk...

We shall see how today's post goes... (Oh, by the way, Hi, Belly Dancer!)
I, due to numerous family functions, applesauce, and husband just dragging my tookus out boating, haven't been near the computer much to blog. Will *hopefully* correct that in the next few days, until the Faire, when I will be gone, and about an hour away and 500 years ago, working as an Irish peasant. (If all goes well, will have pictures. If not, lots of words...)

Finally have some decent pictures of some more of the fuzzier and fluffier members and keepers of our house and property...















This is Mama Cat. Her original name was Teddy Bear, but changed within days, when we found she'd had a batch of kittens. Soon as we could after that, she was fixed... She is our ambassadore of goodwill. If there is someone here, she comes to say hi. She has a good "people detector" of who does and doesn't like cats, as well, I've yet to see her come up to someone who dislikes cats. (How do I know this? People know me as a cat person, and will let me know that they love/hate/can't stand/adore cats, and usually why...)















This is Brutus. I won't go into what we called him at first, I intend this to be more or less a family blog, but suffice that after the third or forth time we had to break up a fight between him and our other cats, we were not calling him Brutus... He is a love, though, now, and now that HE'S fixed, (detect a theme here?), we can more or less have him around the others with little problem. He has cataracts, that's why his eyes look odd, but the mouth open is perfectly normal. If you are around, he talks. He missed his calling as a Siamese.

(For any that think I am writing oddly, I am still learning on Blogger, and I am having trouble convincing it to do what I want, i.e., putting pictures in the order I want, and spell check. Bear with me, I will learn, I am a computer dufus.)






















Ok, case in point. Can I convince Blogger to seperate these pictures, no, I can not. SOOO, the one on the BOTTOM, which was supposed to be FIRST, is Jack, my three legged cat. We named him Jaws, because he chewed on everything, but grew out of that. We re-named him Stripes, because he has them on his tail, but it didn't fit (the name, not the tail). Well, the movie "Stripes", had a line "That's a fact, Jack!" Husband and I decided Jack fit. He seems to think so. He comes to it, at least when there's cheese involved. (Yep, Jack's fixed, too.)

Why is he three legged? Because where we used to live, there were horrible, nasty, evil people that would shoot at anything that moved, for fun. I found Jack had been injured, then Husband took Jack to the vet, as I was in shock, (I went, just couldn't drive) and after calming me down, the vet then dumped the news that Jack would live, but would lose his leg. I think Jack dealt with it much better than I did, for the most part... I personally still wish whoever shot him to be placed in the very hottest rung of He**, with a glass of water JUUUUST out of reach, and the only food available are salt licks. But am I bitter? Naaah.

There is also Einstein (Einy), who is terrified of cameras. Well, and cars, and the color orange, and sheep, and planes, and people, and moving grass, and his own shadow, and me about half the time, and occasionally his cat food, but he's ok. Needless to say, I couldn't get a picture. (Did get him fixed, though, glad that only has to be accomplished once!!!)

We also have Patchwork (Patchy), who is a bit under the weather, and since I wouldn't want a picture of me while I had a cold and was looking ill, I am not going to take a picture of her, but she is getting better. I think. But still, not real photogenic right now. You got it. Fixed.

Anyway, the other picture is of the "Hen pen" group, they are my egg makers, and they are the most talkative bunch I have ever been around. The big spotted rooster is Pebbles, he's a doofus, but he does have a wary eye for overhead predetors. However, more than half the time he calls out a danger call to the hens when I walk up, so sometimes I think his head isn't QUITE screwed on striaght. Oh, well. (Uh, noo, Pebbles isn't fixed, we would like more chickens. I have threatened to capon-ize him a few times when he's torn up something, or gotten out, and I have to chase him back into the pen. Actually, capon might not be right. I'd be caponizing him via his neck... But he knows that I most likely won't do it. Unfortunantly.)

So, I will try and now go on to other items of interest, like Shrek's Butt, corn, hats, and whatever else I can manage to get a picture on Blogger about. (Shrek's Butt is not what you think...)