Spray painting...

The other day I bought some barn red spray paint and today I started using it. I'm in the middle of repainting my laundry room a creamy butter yellow and decided the red would be a nice punch of color.

This afternoon I took my two shelves (two long pieces of wood that I lay on top of metal brackets over the washer/dryer) out to spray paint. I didn't see the sawhorses around so I decided there would be no harm in using the box blade on the tractor as a substitute. After all, the box blade and tractor are red, plus the box blade is rusty so a little paint would spruce it up too.

Fergus was quite intrigued with the goings on and stayed on top of a fence post keeping a close eye on me. The dogs couldn't have cared less (which is good as I didn't want any dogs with red noses, paws or tails).

As I was spraying the shelves I started thinking about spray paint. How many of us learned how to spray paint at Vacation Bible School? Remember those cigar boxes we decorated with uncooked pasta and then spray painted gold?

Spray paint has come a long way since Vacation Bible School and my childhood. For one, it costs a lot more! It also is a better quality and you can find lots more colors and different paints for spraying different materials such as plastic and metals. You can even get it textured these days!

Anyway, I'll be putting the final coat on my shelves tomorrow and then I'm going to spray paint the little green cupboard I found at Goodwill. I also have a couple of decorative shelves to spray paint. After that, I just have to put up my "cats in the laundry basket" border and the room will be finished. I'll post a photo in the near future of my decorating efforts.

Oh, did I mention I also managed to spray paint my index finger today? Yeah...also learned that spray paint doesn't wash off!

Long night ahead...

Saturday nights are always long around here. Don doesn't get home from work until 1 a.m. and it's usually 4 a.m. by the time we get all the dogs fed and bedded down for the night. We also have to round up cats. The coyotes sound like they're getting a little closer to the house every night, so the cats are sleeping inside (except for big burly Harley who hates to be in the house).

Tonight, however, is going to be an hour longer that normal and I am looking forward to it! An extra hour of sleep will be much appreciated since I had to get up early this morning to do the grocery shopping...a chore I normally do on Wednesday. I am most definitely not a morning person so any excuse for an extra hour of sleep is a good one!

Of course, I despise Daylight Savings Time in the Spring when I lose an hour of sleep. Just doesn't seem like there's any point in doing that these days...especially to a night owl like myself!

Fitting in...

It's official...Aislinn is a bona fide member of the Gallagher family now. This was made official last night when she hopped up into a living room chair and claimed it as her own. None of the other dogs challenged her and Aislinn had herself a nice nap.

It always amazes me how easily our dogs accept new members to the family. I often read about people having trouble introducing a new dog or cat to their family, but we've never had a problem. Perhaps it's because we get new pets so often, or perhaps it's the way we go about it.

When we get a new pet they are crated in the den so that everyone can get used to them without the worry of an attack. It's also a good idea health wise too. With the high incidence of Parvo and other diseases stray cats and dogs may have, time in a crate is also a quarantine period.

Aislinn was in the crate longer than usual because the last two dogs we'd gotten prior to finding her had Parvo when we picked them up. We lost one of them (sweet little Aoife) and the other, Caoimhe, survived after spending a week at the ER veterinary hospital. I was terrified that Aislinn would get Parvo before she was completely immunized and our vet agreed that she should be crated. Poor baby did have a battle with intestinal bugs, but is now healthy, happy and a tad bit bossy!

It's hard to believe Aislinn has only been with us for eight weeks! She is so much a part of our family now that I can't imagine life without her. How did I ever survive without my snuggle buddy while watching TV? How did I get by without those warm kisses and her bouncy cheerful ways that light up my days?

I know one thing...I am so very grateful that we were in the right place, at the right time, that hot August night when we spied little Aislinn running down the deserted country road in front of our place. I am also grateful that she stopped and let me pick her up...trembling with fright while I reassured her that everything was going to be alright.

I think she believes me now...all is right in Aislinn's world tonight.

Day is done...

Sunday is done and the sun was gone much earlier than usually, not even giving me a lovely sunset like the one above that I snapped some time ago. Instead, dark storm clouds moved in and I had to hurry out to bring in a quilt hanging on the line and quickly feed the ducks, chickens and Elvis while long streaks of lightning snapped across the sky.

The loud, prolonged rumbling of thunder sent the dogs into hiding (Katie just got out from under the computer desk) and several of the cats decided to come inside. We got some rain and were under a tornado watch for a while, but the storm moved through quickly and the watch was cancelled early.

Now everyone is snoozing peacefully and I have the front door open so I can enjoy the cool fresh breeze and the hum of crickets. The next couple of weeks are going to be very busy for me so I am grateful for this lull...so still and quiet my eyelids are getting heavy!

I'm also grateful to Mother Nature for the rain. It will definitely help my new broccoli plants get a good start and will make digging up the last of the carrots an easier job!

Just call me Dr. Dolittle...

I have a confession to make...I talk to animals all day long. I can tell if a cat is thirsty, hungry or wants to go out just by the sound of their meow. I can tell the difference between a dog's play bark and their "I'm serious, back off" bark.

I'm constantly saying "Be quiet", "Stop that", "Get down", "Drop that right now", "What's going on in here" and "Excuse me". Yes, I say "Excuse me" to the dogs and cats! I also say "Bless you" when a dog or cat sneezes.

One night (several years ago) during dinner I gave our dearly departed cat Ginger a tidbit from my plate and said, "Blow on it Ginger, it's hot". My sweet family burst into laughter and I am teased about it to this day.

I was grateful there was no one around to hear what I told Maggie this afternoon. We were taking our evening walk to the pond when she grabbed what looked like a very flat, very OLD mouse (a gift from a cat I'm sure). I immediately yelled at her, "Maggie! That's to roll on, not to eat!".

SIGH...just call me Dr. Dolittle.

Fergus and his fantasy...

Yesterday evening, while feeding the ducks and chickens, my attention was drawn to my cats, Fergus and Kearie, playing. Fergus escaped from Kearie's clutches and went up a fence post. I was delighted to see this as Fergus is often spotted sitting on top of fence posts, but never seen actually climbing up one. He had an odd way of going up the post, more a form of hitching himself up than actually doing a graceful feline climb. This didn't really surprise me since Don and I are convinced that Fergus believes himself to be a dog.

When Fergus was five weeks old a cruel person threw him out of a moving car onto a concrete driveway. The man who found him brought Fergus to the vet's office where Don and I just so happened to be...guess I was in the right place at the right time! When the man came in with something wrapped up in a brown paper bag I was instantly curious...and very concerned. Don says I was hopping from foot to foot, but I don't believe him.

When the man handed the paper bag to a vet tech he asked her what they were going to do and she said they would have to put it down. I immediately blurted, "What is it and can it be saved?" and was relieved when she said that it was a kitten and it might possibly survive. I replied that I would take full responsibility for the tiny kitten. The man thanked me (as did everyone else in the vet's office) and told me what had happened.

Poor little Fergus...his nose had been ripped off when he hit the pavement and he was in very bad shape. So the vet's office kept him overnight and I returned the next day to bring him home. We put the large dog crate in the family room so that the dogs and other cats could become accustomed to Fergus.

For two weeks it was touch and go. Fergus was in so much pain he would just lie in his bed with his head hanging. I had to feed him with a syringe because he couldn't breathe and suck a bottle at the same time. Eventually he healed as best he could and became a happy little guy.

Today Fergus is a big beautiful cat and we don't notice the horrid disfigurement where his nose used to be. He spends most of his days lying in the yard with the dogs, which is why we think Fergus believes he IS a dog...after all, he grew up in a dog crate surrounded by other dogs! He never purrs and seldom meows. I told Don this is because Fergus thinks he should bark and it doesn't come out right so he stays quiet...probably embarrassed by the girly meows.

Yesterday, after climbing the fence post, Fergus hopped down into the back yard with the two dogs that live back there. He's the only cat that ever gets in the back yard...probably because Fergus thinks he's one of the dogs. When I came in the house Fergus was sitting next to the doghouse like he belonged there.

I guess, in his mind, he does!

Who let the cat out of the bag?

My cats love to hide in odd places. I've found cats napping in the kitchen sink. I've found cats crammed into boxes much to small for them and I've found cats hiding in bags (like Norah in the photo above). Every time this happens the old saying, "...let the cat out of the bag" runs through my mind, which got me to wondering, where did this saying originate?

After some research it became clear that no one knows where "...let the cat out of the bag" originated. There are two theories though...one being that in the 1700s or so farmers would trick buyers by selling them a cat in a burlap bag when they thought they were buying a chicken or a piglet. Another theory is that the phrase comes from English sailors being punished with a cat 'o nine tails, which was a whip. Researchers don't put much stock in that theory, nor can they find conclusive evidence of the farmer trickery.

So, I guess in this case, I'll just have to let sleeping dogs, er...cats, lie...which I highly recommend doing when you find a cat in a bag!