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adopting two kittens

My husband and I had been talking about adopting a cat this January for a several months now. We both love animals and have been the designated pet sitters for many of our friends over the years. After getting married, we decided it’s finally time to bring one into our lives. I work at a vineyard with one black and white barn cat, one big orange guy who spends most of his time sleeping in the tasting room, and the most recent addition: two new barn kittens. In the summer months, they did a good job of staying out of the way and not bothering customers. Once the cold hit, they ventured inside more and more and soon got hooked on the constant attention and snuggles. This was great for me as when I was working I could take a minute to play with them or give them head scratches and they delighted many customers, children especially. We had our holiday party at the vineyard and I brought my husband. It was a running joke that I was trying to adopt the kittens and everyone he spoke to said something along the lines of “they’re incredible and would be very happy to live with you.” My coworkers were so emphatic, he jokingly wondered if the entire party was set up just to convince him that we should adopt the kittens. As we were leaving, we saw two little faces peeking into the french doors. Stepping out into the incredibly cold and windy night, both kittens meowed and sidled up to us for some cuddling, beelining straight for my husband. They are the most well socialized, friendly little tabbies I’ve ever met. They’re great with children, dogs, horses, other cats, basically just very confident in themselves and the world. Their friendliness was their fatal flaw: eagerly jumping into strollers, people’s pickup beds, and catering company semi-trucks. The final straw was their constant crashing of wedding photos (can’t imagine who would hate that, but some people just hate cats, even kittens). After a couple months of struggling to keep them out of the tasting room, the owner decided it was just too much of a liability to have such friendly girls running around and demanding attention from customers. Days before Christmas, I got a text from their owner, the barn manager. She said that her and the owner of the vineyard (who is actually her mother-in-law) would be rehoming the kittens by the end of the week. She had someone interested in keeping them as barn cats, but seeing how much they wanted to be inside and have human attention, she preferred the idea of them being house pets. That night, I sat down with my husband and had a serious discussion of “wait, are we really doing this?” and he felt this was a sign that it was finally the time we pull the trigger. Next, I went to see my 101 year old grandfather to get his blessing as we’re currently living in his house. He was hesitant at first, warning me that kittens are “a ton of work” but agreed that if we’re up for the challenge, he’d welcome his two new fuzzy tenants. I went straight to the store to buy all the supplies to welcome the girls into their new home. The next day, I went to work with a cat carrier and a bag of treats. A soft, wet snow began falling across the mountains as they napped in a leather armchair by the window. They went into the carrier with an almost comical ease and didn’t make a single sound during the 40 minute drive. Once they got home, they explored the whole house side-by-side before curling up together for a much-deserved uninterrupted nap. The pure joy on my husband’s face when he got home that night will stick with me forever. The next day, I took them over to meet my grandpa and parents. My grandpa laughed when they emerged from the carrier saying “oh! those are cats, not kittens!” He was definitely picturing us bottle-feeding month old kittens every 2 hours, not these 7 month olds who really just needed extra playtime, food, and sleep. Seeing him giggle as he played with them made me beam. We sent photos to the nurse who comes to help him a couple times a week and she said “this is so good for him, keep bringing them around.” It’s been just over a month since we welcomed Coco and Uma into our lives and we could not be happier. We’ve had a few bad moments in our personal lives (car issues, trauma resurfacing, etc.) and they have come straight to us to purr on our chests and melt the sadness and anxiety away. They get me out of bed early in the morning to give them breakfast and have “baby time” (each of them in turn get carried around like a baby and shown every nook and cranny in the house). We’ve had hours of playing and laughing at their antics and incredible feats of athleticism. Earlier this week, my grandpa had to be admitted to the hospital for a dire gallbladder infection. He was dealing with hospital-induced delirium and was generally very confused about where he was and what was going on. When I saw him, he perked up immediately and said “how are the cats?” and we laughed at photos of them sleeping together in the most ridiculous positions. Thank you, Coco and Uma, for bringing so much light into my life and the lives of my loved ones. Looking forward to many years of cuddles, antics, play, and baby time together. 💕

@worldonfire

Jan 28, 2025

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being a cat parent is amazing

I have been selected by the cat distribution system twice! I found one in 2020 and the other in 2021, they were both kittens I found on the side of the road (Peanut and Spooky) one incredibly malnourished and the other fat (she had worms🤦🏻‍♀️) One thing I’ve found when caring for kittens at a young age is they need help going potty! Their moms would typically be grooming them and helping the potty process, but if the mom isn’t around a warm compress can be used, wiping the area in a downward motion will help stimulate them to go potty. Keep their faces clean, especially when you’re using formula still, it sticks and hardens quick! Potty training is so much easier the earlier you start, hold the kitten and gently move them backwards in the litter, you can even put the 💩 they may leave elsewhere to help them associate the box with potty time. NEVER encourage them to think hands are “toys“ best to introduce them to wands, crinkle toys, fake mice, etc. All kittens are different when it comes to affection and when they want attention, best you can do is take note of what your cat likes and dislikes as it grows and respect boundaries.

@Ireland

Jan 21, 2025

1

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building a shelter for baby

Baby lives on my porch, she sits on my lap when I smoke. Landlord won’t allow pets so I built her a little house to live in because the temperature is dropping. She sleeps in it every night, she greets me every morning before I leave for work. Recently I reconnected with an old friend who as it turns out wants to adopt a cat, so he will be taking Baby into his home this weekend. I will miss my little friend but it's nice to know she will safe and loved forever now.

@propanecowboy

Dec 11, 2024

Top Recs from @steelyfan1998

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reading through all your old recs

sometimes you just need to read some real shit straight from the realest person you know .

@steelyfan1998

Feb 24, 2025

3

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becoming a gymcel; COWARDICE

I've been Hitlering myself, Stalining myself, Musollining myself, Maoing myself for the past 7 months. I do this because I am a coward, and totalitarian regimes are conducted by and inflicted upon cowards. Something interesting about me is that I am 5'10.225" in the morning. As the day goes on, my spine compresses and I am shorter by about a quarter inch to a half inch come evening. I generally refuse to acknowledge to myself that at midnight I'm 5'9" because, as stated above, I am a coward, and a vain one. This past September I weighed in at 210 lbs, putting me undoubtedly in the "overweight" segment of the population and just on the border of mildly obese. That's funny to me, that last summer I could have been 5'9" and obese or 5'10" and just bog standard overweight-american depending on the time of day, really. But you have to understand that if I were not a coward, this would not matter. The non-cowards among us, the brave and the beautiful, they pay no mind to these things, they can drink milk without spoiling it.  I am no longer as overweight or obese as I once was. The last time I weighed myself, I was at 187.8 lbs., meaning that I've lost somewhere in the neighborhood of 25-30 lbs of fat when you factor in muscle gains. I still have a long way to go, of course. But I have been lifting weights and counting calories and yes, this has unsurprisingly made my life less unbearable. But I'm still a coward. You can't lift away cowardice, cowardice is not something to be shaved off by a caloric deficit. I operate under the delusion that if I can reach a certain set of numbers it will be mathematically impossible for me to be a coward. Lately, I’ve been coming around to the conclusion that my cowardice is parabolic— diminishing itself quietly into infinity but fundamentally unable to arrive at y=(0).  Yeah I lift brah. You must understand that I do not lift to feel strong, but to make external my constant, gnawing, smothering internal weakness. I used to hope that I could draw it out and smash it away beneath the barbell. I'm beginning to understand that my condition is chronic-- it's cellular, in my cytoplasm. When the muscle fibers tear, it is the cowardice that rips itself apart, and when the muscle fibers rebuild themselves it is the cowardice that comes back all the more potent; I foam roll at my cowardice in hopes that my lower back will be less tight, my hips more mobile, the fear made flesh less aching and sore. But really it just looks like I’m having awkward missionary sex with an imaginary partner alone in my living room. What is it that I’m so afraid of? Why am I saying all this? I don't know. There's a girl who I want to talk to and every time she texts me I feel sick. I apologize for how mundane the answer is, really I do. But every time I try to communicate with her I feel like I've said the exact wrong combination of words. She texted me happy birthday today and I somehow found a way to say the wrong thing. She thinks I’m funny, she likes to talk to me, and every time I make her laugh and I hear her laugh I'm reminded of the insect I truly am. Only a coward feels this way when he's around a beautiful woman. No other explanation. Every single woman I’ve ever loved has terrified me. 

@steelyfan1998

Apr 8, 2025

29

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anti-rec: smoking weed

This is a confession post, not a recommendation, not even much of an anti-recommendation. Tbh it reads like a humilation ritual. Honestly just keep scrolling; it's not worth reading. I'm just posting it because I think I had a point when I first started writing this, one which I lost pretty wuickly. But I spent a good couple of minutes typing this all out, so I'll post it anyway. Thank God I'm anon. If you do read it, please forgive me. My friend Tyler brought a joint to the super bowl party last night. He handed it to me & told me about how it had weed diamonds in it while I smoked, he told me that it was some good shit and that I wouldn't have to smoke so much of it since I've got such a low tolerance & all, but I could also smoke as much as I liked, seeing as he had a bunch more & that it was the super bowl & we had a bunch of wings on the way anyway, so might as well smoke some more weed so you know what? yeah, i smoked some more weed since what's the harm anyway it's just weed after all. I've been a mess all day. I've been slow & stupid & disgustingly horny since I woke up this morning; but really honestly since I smoked the weed. If you're one of those types that "actually becomes more functional when you're smoking weed" & that I should "just let people enjoy things" I don't know what to say to you. I'm going to be weird for 4 weeks now and it's all my fault. This happens every time. Even when it doesn't turn me into a non-verbal paranoiac nutcase, even when it's enjoyable to me in that moment-- I become something lower than a beast. I stand over the platter of chicken wings & gorge until I am sick and then I gorge even more. My stomach becomes distended & my face and fingers are covered in thai curry buffalo chicken fat goo. I waddle around & fart & I find this very funny. I confuse the sound of my own voice with that of my younger sisters & this is incredibly disqueting to me. Do I really sound like that? I become a big confused overgrown fat baby. I'm going to be be weird for four weeks now. Slow. I was supposed to meet up with my friends to watch Luka's debut for the Lakers. I'm stitting at my desk typing this up; procrastinating going to the gym (which I can NOT neglect [especially after my evening of spiritual obesity]) & the game starts in 5 minutes. Stupid. Typing out this confession right now is painfully difficult. Every word that I type has the appearance of a whitehead that can't be popped to me. This textbox full of blemishes so infuriatingly, stubbornly, immutably DISGUSTING. I feel sick just reading back what I'm writing here. Once again, if you've made it this far, forgive me. This is a confession, not a recommendation. Disgustingly horny. This one I won't elaborate on. Forgive me. It's not because I smoked weed. The smoking of the weed was just the first movement in a sequence that had already begun before I'd even accepted the joint from Tyler. My own spiritual weakness is the mantle upon which all of these failings hang. I'm not this way because I smoked weed, I'm this way because I'm the type of guy that smokes weed even though I know what it will do to me. There are 999,999,999 other weeds in my life that I am all too willing to permit myself. I haven't eaten anything but bread & butter all day. The lakers game is starting soon. Off to the gym I go.

@steelyfan1998

Feb 11, 2025

21