(what i've been looking at. instagram: rinserepeatblog.)
Just a word to the wise: Don't adopt a teeny, orphaned street kitten unless you have the ability to drop off the face of the planet for two weeks to feed him every two hours, coax medicine down his throat and chase him around to ensure that he's not falling off/choking on/bumping into/dozing off/crawling under every unsafe item in your home.
Should you choose to accept this challenge, expect all of the aforementioned things to happen...every single hour. Also expect that your teeny treasure will declare your laptop Public Enemy #1, prancing across the keyboard and turning everything you type into:
So, let's hope you don't have any ultra-important online communication awaiting you. ;)
Thankfully, I've had nothing better to do over the past 14 days than to act as a kitten shield and feline pillow, watching TV or reading a book while Lucky awkwardly sprawls across me rendering me unable to move more than two inches without waking him. And it's been a total joy. He's needy, but you know? It's nice to be needed, to feel like I have a purpose. Even if that purpose is something as silly as keeping a teeny baby kitten alive...a kitten that no one really cares about except Gabe and me...it's therapeutic.
Purpose is something that I've lacked since my move to Kuwait (more here), but taking the last few weeks to just...unexpectedly disappear, to be mostly silent...to travel, to fall in love with this teeny, tiny thing that needs me has been beyond therapeutic. It's that ol' thing where you think you're saving someone, but in reality...that someone saves you. And yeah, for me that "someone" is a kitten. Silly, but true. And even if I temporarily set aside writing and keeping up on Google Reader for two weeks to figure this out...the kitten snuggles are a nice pay off. :)
But I'll say this: Gabe and I are the most nervous pet owners alive. Because Lucky started his time with us by, oh...almost dying....every sneeze leads to no less than 17 Google searches to make sure he is healthy. This baby kitten is enough for our delicate nerves, and we've been routinely swearing off having children for the next
Cross my heart I'll be back on Monday (with a 100% kitten-free post about Rome...finally!). Gabe came though with a ridiculously huge kitten playpen, so I can finally use my laptop, take a few photos or work on a craft project without worrying about Lucky getting into trouble. I'm so jazzed to be back here regularly, like a normal human being who writes a blog in a foreign country so that her friends + family know that she's still alive. ;)
Thanks for sticking around, even if I've been a bit scarce!