OK, so we pack all three kids into the same carrier, and off to home we go.
Everyone did well, happy as peas in a pod.
 
Then we got them into their room.
 
Took Gabriel about 30 seconds to realize, hey, that's a new smell, and new
smell means new fert, in my house.
 
*POUNCE*  *SCREECH SCREECH*  *FLYING POOP*
 
We jinxed it.  We talked sarcastic talk about how hard integration would
be.  Life likes to be interesting that way.
 
This was especially bad since little Tiki wasn't the strongest gal in the
world at this point.  Her old owner had been feeding her cheap cat food,
and her teeth were very icky.  One of her lower canines was growing
horizontally out of her mouth instead of straight up like normal teeth,
and the opposite upper canine was rotten.  She's a tiny thing, really, no
muscle mass to speak of.  So the beating up stuff was gonna hafta be toned
down til we could beef her up.
 
Lucy, as ever, has played the diplomat.  I've deemed her the "integration
officer", and she's doing an excellent job.
 
Tiki has since had the offending teeth removed.  There's a cute story about
that in the next post.
 
Andrea
 
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Andrea Mercado - Web Developer
T3 Media, Inc.
285 W. B'way, NYC
vox: 212.334.0944 ext 256
fax: 212.334.2472
e: [log in to unmask]
 
Visit our site at http://www.t3media.com
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[Posted in FML issue 2492]