And Then There Were Two

I'm sitting in my underwear and a tank top writing this post right now. No, it isn't because I am trying to be sexy. It's because Dallas is HOT. I am currently trying to sustain life in my home and that requires it to be quite warm. That means no air conditioner or fans. I have the windows open, but the wind is non existent in this city. 

Papaya has got to be the worst mother on the face of this Earth. I take that back...I think Janelle Evans from Teen Mom 2 is the worst mother on this planet. Someone needs to pray for that girl. Anyways...We originally had 6 kittens and brought home 4 black ones remember? Well...keeping kittens alive is a lot harder than you think it is. They have an inability to maintain their own body heat...which I guess human babies have the same issue, but we are smart enough to wrap them in blankets. Sorry, side tracked. Well I became well informed of this information when I had one of the all black kittens die of hypothermia. 

You want to know how kittens get hypothermia? By their mom not laying with them to keep them warm. This is why sluts shouldn't have kids. They have no maternal instinct.

I came home from school one day and went to the closet to perform my daily head count. I saw 3 kittens cuddled up together and 1 alone. Fuck. I touched the kitten. Dead. Fuck! I didn't want to pick up a dead kitten!! More than that, I didn't want to throw it in the trash! So I let my anxiety escalate out of proporiton. Is there a disease running rampant killing my little kitten grand babies? Is Papaya killing her babies so she can finally go outside again? Is this post-partum??!! 

Thank God for google because I called the emergency vet. I let the lady on the other line know about Papaya's slutty actions. She told me that my babies were dying of hypothermia and I needed to put them on a heating blanket. Perfect! I have one of those in my closet!! I plugged that sucker up, threw away a dead kitten (so morbid) and warmed the rest of my grand kittens up. Finally...a solution to the madness! I would like to say that my story ends there, but it doesn't.

I went to the Miranda Lambert concert with Molly, her fiance, and Canada on Saturday night. I had an absolute blast because I don't know if you've noticed, she is my favorite musician! Y'all know I was out there drinking and partaking in shenanigans when we all went to a friends house after the concert. I got home around 4 am (don't judge me) and fell on my bed with all my clothes and boots on. Every fucking time I closed my eyes though, I kept hearing this damn kitten cry! So I took off my boots, took off my shorts and closed my bedroom door in hopes to pass out on the couch. Now Kiwi is crying. She was taking on emotions or something...bitches. So I lock her in my bathroom and finally fall asleep. 

 

 

I woke up at 1:30...P.M. of course and I still hear this little bastard crying. What the fuck?! I came into the room, look in the closet and guess what. Those little shits weren't there. I tip toed over to my bed in hopes of not smashing a life with my feet and felt carefully on the blanket. No kittens. Then that annoying cry starts again. All three kittens are in the corner of my room next to my bed. No wonder why I couldn't sleep!! 

I picked them all up and put them back on the electric blanket. Papaya moves them back out. Seriously bitch??! Fine. So I moved the electric blanket to the corner of my room, but one kitten continues to cry and isolate itself. I think quickly (qualities of being a good doctor wink wink) and throw on some clothes to go to the store. I purchase some kitten milk and a bottle and rush home to what I thought was a starving kitten. Nope. It wouldn't take the damn bottle! That is when I noticed its labored breathing. FUCK! I have a dying kitten in my hands. Anxiety overload. Start waterworks! I start freaking the fuck out. 

I call Belle and inform her about my kittens pending death while sounding like a babbling brook. She immediately heads over. By the time she gets there I have my little kitten wrapped in a hand towel to keep it warm. We then use a small heating pad to dissipate more heat, but it wasn't working. 

Being the good little future chiropractor she is, Belle palpates my grand kitten's cervical spine. <--- This is why you go to the ER for emergencies, not to your chiropractor's office. Then she asks for my stethoscope and listen to its little heart and lungs. What the fuck are we vets???! We google the kittens symptoms and what do you know, it is dying from hypothermia! So she holds the baby in the heating pad, pets it and we watch it take its last breaths. Sigh.

I scold Papaya. "How can you make me throw away another kitten? Does that even sound right? I am gonna throw away a kitten! Do you even care?" She doesn't. Now, every time I get home I am scared to do a head count because I don't want to find that the neglect of my cat has led to another death. Well...I wake up one morning from school earlier than usual so I could actually be on time. Kiwi looks over to the corner of and starts crying. I immediately look over and kittens are no where to be found. "PAPAYA!!! Where are you?!" She comes from behind the curtains of the window. "God bless!! You aren't with your missing kittens?!" 

Jesus Christ, Mary, Joseph my heart is about to give out from all the stress I am going through! I frantically search the house. In the closets, under the dresser, in the toilet (you never know). Meanwhile, Kiwi is digging in the kittens blankets searching for them there. Sweet puppy. I look under the couch and am just puzzled. Then I feel up towards the seats and feel heat. The kittens are IN the couch. Thank God. I place the heating pad under the couch just in case and go off to school. 

I came home from lunch to check on the kittens and none of my animals were no where to be found. No one even cared I had food. Everyone was in the couch (there is a whole at the bottom of my couch that allows the the animals to get in there; they have been doing it since they were babies). Hmmm...I hope Kiwi isn't stuck in there. Well, I shouldn't have put that out into the universe. When I got home for the day I realized she was.

I was minding my own business in my bed when I heard Kiwi digging her life away. I ignored it at first but the digging weirdly continued. I walked into the living room, looked under the couch and hear digging followed by some hard panting. Damn it. My dog was stuck under the couch. How you ask? Well she was on one side of the hole and Papaya and the kittens were on the other. This caused the fabric and the hole to be against the carpet. My pitiful dog was trying to poke her head out, but the fabric was pulling so hard on her face that the skin of her eyes were being pulled up. All I could see were the whites of her eyes and her open mouth panting for dear life. 

I put my arm in the to grab her out, but she was just too big for this hole! Damn my dog being a better mom than Papaya! She was in there to keep the kittens warm because that is what she has been doing since the last one died. Ugh...what to do? What to do?? Scissors. 

I cut the hole bigger for Kiwi and got her out. She gratefully licked my face and then asked to be taken outside. I really hope these kittens start becoming self sufficient soon because I think I am losing my mind. I don't even check on them anymore. I feel like, if one dies, my couch will just have to stink and I will have an excuse to get a new one because I'll be damned if I stick my hand in a black hole to grab expired animals. 

So far we only have a 33% survival rate in this house and Papaya may be next on the list if she doesn't straighten up her act. Most girls are slutty because of their daddy issues. Guess I should have kept a man around to teach this hoe right. Sluts shouldn't have babies. I can't believe there actually were 6 kittens...and then there were two.