May 15th, 2001


(no subject)

This is Curly sitting on my keyboard. Isn't he the cutest? I can't keep my kissing lips off his sweet little kitten-face. I tried to put this up before but my image site went weird, and I had to put it up elsewhere

Oh it's so funny, Noemi was upset because when she went in the bathroom, one of Scaredy's kittens was in Spooky's bed with her kittens, and she thought that Scaredy had just decided she didn't like that kitten anymore and was trying to pawn it off on Spooky. She didn't know that when cats have kittens around the same time they will often take care of them communally, they are so smart that they just know to pool their mothering resources. It's the sweetest thing, one nursing mother will take over for the other so she can get up and stroll around, and have a little rest from the needy babies.

Years ago when three of our girls had babies at the same time, we would try to keep them separated, but inevitably we would find all of the babies piled together in one bed, two of the Mother's would be off checking things out, and one of them would be nursing all of the babies. It was confusing for us because we never knew which kittens belonged to which mama cat. That was the very beginning of our kitten having, after that it was a long time before we had kittens again, we found such good homes for those little guys. We only kept one and he died when my ex tossed him out the front door one night when he has sprayed his stupid fencing bag. He left him outside all night long and a coyote ate him and left him in pieces on the neighbors lawn. I've told this story before, I'll probably tell it again. Maybe I'll have to tell it a hundred times before I can feel a little bit less hurt over it.

Oh I wanted to tell you guys about an e-mail exchange I had with Art Bell, I wrote this on Ana's journal;

I'm mad at Art Bell because he declaws his cats, and thought it was funny that after he picked up his latest rescue kitty, (I like that he saved the kitty at least), after it had been declawed, it tried to scratch the couch, and made a sound over and over again that sounded like, "Ouch, ouch, ouch," then he looked at his paws and seemed to not understand.

He told this story on the air like it was some kind of funny anecdote. Isn't that awful? Grrrrr. I promptly fired off a letter to him and he actually wrote back. He said, "My cats are very HAPPY indoors. He's alive! He'll get over it...and so will you." I wrote back to him and told him that I was glad he saved this kitty's life, but that with all of the alternatives available, and considering what an open minded kind of guy he seems to be, and the fact that he loves cats, it surprised me that he could make such an insensitive choice. Do you know that they cut their claws back past the knuckle, it's actually considered amputation. Most good vets refuse to do it.

I was just in the bathroom and poor Ollie, he was trying to use his litter box, and Moe came right in and stuck his head in-between his back legs. He was just eager to help him cover it up.

Here are my two guys, Beau and Jake. Jake is almost completely blind. He is totally blind in one eye and the other one isn't too great. We've been to specialists. He gets around pretty well, in fact like most blind kitties I've known he's a bit of a bully. I like to sleep with him but he sprays my pillows so I've had to ban him, and it really hurts because I miss cuddling with him in my arms all night. Sigh.

(no subject)

I am having a stressful day. I went to sleep last night with weird cramps or pains in my chest on the left side, and I'm still having them today. Of course I've been thinking that I'm about to have heart attack since I was about ten years old, so I'm sure it's nothing serious, probably just a cramp or something. I'll tell my doctor today when I take my housekeep Noemi in to see her. Noemi was in a motorcycle accident a few years ago back in Belize and she has a big scar on her head. She says that they gave her an X-ray and couldn't see any fractures, but that she never had a CT Scan and has been in pain off and on ever since. Then the other day she stumbled and fell against the banister and hit her head. It's been hurting her, and I want to be sure she's okay, so I'm taking her to my doctor to have her looked at.

There was an upholsterer slipcover guy here today, and he just didn't seem to know what he was doing. Then in the middle of trying to communicate with him, and I speak fluent Spanish, so that wasn't the problem, our new nutcase rescue puppy dog, who has to be tied on a lead (I know it's awful but we're building a dog run) jumped the fence to our patio, and was hanging herself. My housekeeper, Noemi, ( a gal from Belize who is head injured, highly defensive, slow and semi-closeted) hadn't checked to make sure that the lead wasn't so long that she could reach the fence, even though I'd warned her several times to be very careful about this.

So there I was trying to communicate with this guy who's just looking at me with dollar signs in his eyes, and through the glass doors to my patio, I see my new dog, hanging herself in the distance. It was so freaky and upsetting it was almost comical. I started screaming for Noemi to run out there and save the dog, because she was the closest, and I figured I'd be right behind her, but she seemed to be moving in slow motion. She went out to the patio and just kind of continued whatever task she had been doing in the first place, something with the rabbit hutch, and was ignoring the hanging dog. I ran right past her and she shouted, "It's okay I fixed his collar," as if that would make it any less painful or scary for her. I grabbed the puppy and pushed open the gate, but she was trying to grab her back end to push her over the gate, when all I had to do was open the latch. God, what hellishness, poor puppy. She was just so happy to see me she was wiggling and smiling. Then I asked Noemi how she could let something like this happen, but of course she didn't apologize or take responsibility for it.

She did the same thing with my dead plants on my upstairs patio earlier today;
"Ummm Noemi, the roses, and the jasmine trees, and all the rest of the plants are dead, what happened? I've asked you to water them so many times, did you forget?"
No answer.
"Noemi can't you just say something like, "Oh God Jacqui, I forgot I'm so sorry?"
"Well, maybe if we water dem dey will come back."
"They're crispy and brown. The roses are black. These are seriously dead plants, they won't be coming back in this lifetime."
"Maybe it was the sun?"
"Well, yes, maybe it was the sun, and the total absence of water, for several weeks."
"Well, Esther waters them on the weekends."

Of course I know that's not true, because Esther, who works for us on the weekends, has a chip on her shoulder, and feels like the person who works during the week, should do the extra maintenance stuff. Plus she's always busy worrying about her own personal life, and talking on the phone to her abusive alcoholic partner. (He waved his dick at her Mother and called them both whores, but he was so drunk that they forgave him. This is the guy who, when Esther was dating him, drove his truck backwards on my street. He sped past my house backwards, turned the corner and kept going. Then he reversed the damn thing, drove up over the curb and onto my lawn, opened the door, and passed out. That was the first time I met him; passed-out drunk, hanging halfway out of a truck, with no shirt and his pants undone. Man, and I think I make poor choices in men.) She's also busy trying to keep up with my son and the cats and her two kids, who she brings with her. I just get so tired of this. I love Esther, and I welcome her kids because I love them too, and have known them for years, so I feel like their aunt, but I need the person who works during the week to be stable enough to get the majority of the work done and done well. I can't have two people with problems, you know? I always felt that Esther didn't do a very good job cleaning, because she didn't have any experience, and she mostly saw herself as a baby-sitter, but for the last couple of years, as far as cleaning goes, Esther far outshines the gals I hire for the week by far, and she'll openly admit that she's lazy. I can't be a good parent to my son, take care of all of these pets, and manage this house, in the shape I'm in without help. Especially not if I want to have any kind of creative life, or any relationships away from here.

Anyway, despite the fact that what happened to the poor dog was completely Noemi's fault, and she could have been killed, had we not been right there to see what happened, I still know how sensitive she is, and certainly didn't do it on purpose. So being concerned that she might be hurt, I tried to smooth her ruffled feelings by saying that I was sorry if I was too abrupt, or angry with her, when it happened. I explained that I was just very concerned and frightened for the dog and she said;
"Well, yah, my feelings are a little bit hurt."
"Well, I tried to be as gentle as possible with you Noemi, but this is a serious thing."
"Well, yah, but it's not MY fault if the poppy jumps over da fence."

Oh man, so I told her that it was her fault if she tied the lead in such a way that it allowed the dog to be anywhere near the fence, and that it had been long enough for her to get over it, and that she had been cautioned about this several times. Argh, my life is just so stressful and I always pick the worst people to work for me. I'm such a sucker, and a softy, that I can never fire anyone. I won't even try to tell you how bad the last gal was, let's just say she was a drug-dealing, compulsive liar, who wore way too much rouge, and hung out with gangsters, and leave it at that.

Okay well, I've got calls to make, I need to go to the bank and then I have to take Noemi to the doctor. Thanks for reading, hope I made you laugh a little.