… this fostering gig is work. I’ve said it before, but last night it was driven home again.
I got home from work after a detour to the vet for Hamish. He’s “not as sick as he looks” which is a huge relief. But he is sick. Antibiotics for everyone. And poor little dude had a scab on his butt that had pus under it so they cut it off. (Ed. note: Hamish showed immediate signs of improvement and this morning was running around. Not like the others, but still.) Then the fun of a typical evening began:
Once I get home, as Murphy, Jonesy, and Claire “greet” me (demanding dinner) I have to unload the three kittens who were at work into the quarantine room. There I am swarmed by the three remaining kittens and Arabelle, also demanding dinner.
Go to the kitchen and prep for dinner; dishes, utensils, getting out the various foods that are being served — three kinds of wet food and formula (which has to be mixed up).
Then back to the quarantine room where:
- weigh six kittens and record their weights
- transfer weights to another sheet where I’m tracking their de-worming medications
- calculate de-worming medication doses according to weight — that means MATH.
- administer de-worming medication which is HATED (Elinor is the biggest drama queen about this! I should have recorded her “This stuff is GROSS dance.”)
- set up sheet to record antibiotic doses/days
- administer antibiotics; these are not hated quite as much, probably because they’re for human kids and sweet!
- clean up meds including droplets of spit out de-wormer
- clean up any accidents (tonight: 1 poop, 1 pee, and Claire pooped outside the box but on the tray; I suspect a case of “butt hanging over edge”)
Go back to kitchen and prepare dinners:
- wet food, on separate dishes, for Murphy, Jonesy, Claire
- wet food for Arabelle
- slushie (formula and RC Babycat) for five kittens
- straight formula and a separate dish of special food for Hamish
- Jonesy on top of the bookshelf (Because I have a hard time keeping weight on him he has his own feeding station, up high, that the others can’t reach — in theory — with constant food. So far Murphy hasn’t been able to get up there. I think he’d need a ladder.)
- Murphy and Claire on the floor, but separate
- Arabelle on the desk in the quarantine room
- five kittens on the floor in the quarantine room
- Hamish, syringe-administered formula on the coffee table
Gather up all soiled bedding, carrier towel(s), cleaning cloths, feeding cloths and put on a load of laundry. (The BEST thing about my tiny condo: in-suite laundry!!!!)
When everyone is finished eating, gather up dirty dishes. Wash immediately or not, depending on mood and other plans. This night, as a special treat, Arabelle projectile-vomited her dinner back up. 😦 Will be discussing that with my foster coordinator.
Of course that list didn’t include litter boxes, which I usually do in the morning (along with all the breakfast rigmarole.)
Pour myself a drink!