No laughing matter

I spent most of yesterday alternatively going through a 2-week high stack of mail and taking foster photos for a display at the shelter. Here are two stripeys, Jonni relaxing on the beach with Seri.

But today, Jonni is Johnny and he is spending the day at the v-e-t having his teeny tiny hoo-ha-ectomy. He might not have been so jolly if he knew what the morrow would bring.

I don't think I've even mentioned Jonni/Johnny before, though s/he's been with me since the beginning of October. He arrived with Frankie, two lonely-only 6-week-olds found on streets in different parts of the metro area. Frankie was supposed to get his operation today, too, but has been delayed for a recurrence in his diarrhea. That's probably one reason I haven't written about them - how much can you say about poop? And more poop. Really more poop.

When these kittens arrived I was fresh out of inspiration for names, so I started calling them Tuxie Tim and Stripey Sue. After discovering that Tim had been named Franklin by one of the other volunteers, they became Frankie and Jonni. (I meant to wax eloquently about how Jonni was named after a former coworker, but never got around to it. Just as well.) We were still pretty sure that Jonni was a girl when I left for DC, but things were clearly different upon my return. A late bloomer. Good thing we weren't still calling him Sue.