This Is Not A Happy Post

Yeah, tuck away the sarcasm and spare me the “your posts are never happy, Morgue.”

Between yesterday afternoon and this morning, one of the free range (stray) kitties went into labor. I had no idea she was even pregnant as she’s sort of feral and looked skinny as a rail to me. I knew the moment the first one was delivered…they were too premature to survive. No fur, no eyes. The first one only survived ten minutes. Then came two and three, four and five. All hairless, under formed. Yet their little lungs worked enough to make these sickly little mews.They kept drawing breath and I cried and cursed whatever deity causes such things to happen. I don’t buy “nature’s way of saying something’s a mistake.”Ā  I know intellectually there’s nothing anyone, even a vet, could have done for such preterm fetal kittens…It does not help me feel any better.

In fact…I felt even worse because while the mom labored and each one was born…she shunned them. It’s that survival of the fittest thing I guess.Makes me glad humans tend to love their offspring enough to at least comfort them as they’re fading away. So…I buried five little kittens as of this morning and…I just want to curl up in a ball and cry. Meanwhile mama cat is fine and face first in the feed dish. Love the way cats grieve.

Adding to my frustration is the brown car is doing it’s “die at every stop or yield sign” thing even though the weather has warmed up. It took 20 minutes to get Spook to school and get back. It normally takes under ten minutes. I was cursing and just livid. Dead kittens aren’t fucking enough? Ya can’t just make ONE thing work as it is supposed to, universe?

My father us apparently pissed at me. Because I dared say, “Too bad that Grand Am isn’t maroon like that car you got Mom.”

He went off on me as if he were the color red and I called him a slack jawed sheep fucker. Seriously? We all have colors we prefer over others. My first car was maroon. I like maroon. It was such an innocuous statement, not meant to be rude, and now he’s all up about how ungrateful and snotty I am.

I can’t win with my family or with life, period. I don’t need to win an award. I just want to have a few days a month that don’t involve dead animals, broken down cars, butt hurt people, and all my mental tentacles running riot.

So…I’m sad about the kitties not making it. I am irked with the brown car, irked with my dad, and irked that after a week of not speaking to me, suddenly R wants me to watch the shop tomorrow so he can go to a funeral where he’s pall bearer and he will buy me smokes. Not “let’s write off the labor and parts on that Grand Am.” Nope. Let’s not help Niki one fucking bit but bust her chops every chance we get.

I am within about fifty dollars on the fundraiser so I can get that red car on the road. I would have had it already but ya know, wepay takes a percentage which is fine, but it does lower the amount going into my bank account. The DMV, for some reason, won’t simply round up and call $198 dollars $226 dollars. So…shameless self promotion.


Just kidding. Humans are way too fattening for his diet.


12 Responses to “This Is Not A Happy Post”

  1. Well sadly I can’t donate because I lost control of financial anything, damn my mania. But if I could have, I’d have given just to cheer you up.

    • Been there, my friend. When my disability was finally granted I was forced to have a payee for two years to make sure I didn’t go manic with the money. Irked me to no end begging some stranger for five bucks to buy toilet paper but it was wise, the mania is a monster. Since mood stabilizers…I have for the most part regained some sense of self control.

      Thanks for the kind thought, I appreciate it.

  2. enjoyed reading this, if you have time check out my blog x

  3. No, it’s not a happy post, but it is a beautiful one. I remember trying to take care of a feral cat who refused to be loved or petted. Never came within 15 feet of anyone as she usually lived beneath some pine trees with low branches. One day I found her on the road dead. I cried. I cried because she had every opportunity to be loved but turned away because of fear and now she was dead after leading a lonely, sad life.

    I don’t know why I turned this comment all about me. I think you just struck a nerve from my memories. I think it was because of the nonchalant cat dismissed her babies so easily.

  4. I don’t think you turned your comment “all about you”. You just shared a personal experience and I appreciate that. It means you truly understand where I am coming from.

  5. Poor kitties! šŸ˜¦ That makes me so sad! I’m sorry you had to deal with that guts wrenching task this morning! šŸ˜¦ I hate survival of the fittest. Lol It is too cruel. I imagine they were early as the mother didn’t get enough food or nutrients (you said she is skinny… Hmmm or do you think she would have worms?). And to hear their “mews”, that would have pushed me over the edge. šŸ˜¦ Kitten mews are my kryptonite.

    I wish I could donate but funds are very limited. Especially because they fucking decided people on Social Security shouldn’t get a raise this year… Grrrrrr…

    • I hear you. Most of my blogger friends are in the same boat I am in, money wise. Still, I know those same people are big on Facebook and Twitter so if nothing else, maybe they can pass it on. Anything is worth a try, ya know? Especially to get my father off my ass, the man thinks he’s a diaper.
      I buried the kittens by my rose bush. That way when it starts to bloom, I can imagine each bloom as one of them all grown up. Sappy but damn it, cats are my heroin and kryptonite combined.

  6. ugh I’m so sorry to hear about the kitties. That’s just awful.

    And R? How long is he planning on being gone? A couple hours for a pack of smokes? What…that means he pays you like $2/hour? Tell him you want to actually get paid and you can buy your own smokes. That way if you want the money to go to the car it’s more then 6 or 7 bucks. sheesh what a knob.

    • The truly knobful thing is, he didn’t ask me himself as he is too busy and I am volatile these days. So Mrs. R was enlisted to call and ask.
      I wish to fuck my brain would just work RIGHT and RELIABLY so I could just get a frigging job and not have to deal with disability and family and cockweasel friends like him, grrrr.

  7. I have cats.We had a bona fide mother and daughter. Mother was to and daughter was almost one. Adopted. a few mos later the baby started crying when I picked her up. we took to vet and she had FIP, feline intraperitoneal syndrome, fatal. Infectious disease found in feral cats and cats in no kill or humane society ‘catteries’ we had to open her up to find out and then it was recommended we put her down. It was expensive in more ways than one. Then we adopted another kittien and I don’t know why but the mother cat hated this ktten for months. No maternal instinct at all. I have bipolar disorder and there are times where so much is going wrong, on top of all the doctor’s appointments from 25 years of medications….well it overwhelms me. Thanks for the post about cats. I love cats.
    Why do you call yourself ‘Morgue’ ? I just read this article about a new funeral company called “undertaking LA” that performs home funerals and all sorts of stuff on the cheap. The woman who started the agency has Utube show called “Ask the Mortician” and wrote a book, “Smoke in Your Eyes.”

    • When I set up my home wifi I wanted a unique name so I went with Morgueticia Atoms, in honor of Morticia Addams. Just think it’s cute. Even made it onto a site for “best wifi network names.”
      Plus I wear black and dig Halloween so the parallel isn’t really a stretch.
      Glad you like the post.

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