"Another cat?!"

I think that's what little Mickey Kitty is saying these days--- Another cat?! This little peanut of a cat has started to hiss at Gatsby, who is twice his size. Mickey hissed so loudly at Gatsby this morning that Gatsby jumped up on a dining room chair and just looked down at him as if Mickey had lost his mind. When Mickey hisses, I just call out his name and he will quit that ridiculous behavior, but then he'll run around to another part of the house and wait for Gatsby to walk by and then he'll jump out and hiss at him again. Mickey will just have to adjust, both to Gatsby and to Sweet Pea.

I thought Mickey was doing fine with Gatsby, but then along came Sweet Pea, and I guess that was just one set of whiskers too many for the youngest cat in the house. What's going on here? I thought I was the baby-cat?!

Tomorrow is clinic day for Sweet Pea.... I'm having her spayed, and vaccinated. She may already be spayed, but I doubt that. And there's no way the vet will know for sure till he gets in there for a look-see. So either way, Sweet Pea will be on the operating table tomorrow morning. It's always hard to bring a pet to the clinic and leave them there. While I was out today, I found a plush light green baby-blanket at the resale shop. I bought it for Sweet Pea and covered her gray pillow-bed with it. Call it my taking-you-for-spaying guilt-gift. I also put a sparkly bell-collar around her neck. She didn't even resist her first piece of jewelry. I just cannot get over the gentleness and serenity of this little cat.

And the opposite of gentleness and serenity? The two Guinea hens, who will be going to a farm out in Caldwell tomorrow morning. Our neighbor has already brought over the wire cage for them, and he asked me not to let them out of the coop tomorrow. He'll come over with a net, scoop up the Guinea hens, put them in the cage, and off they go. Hasta la vista! Tomorrow can't come soon enough, when it comes to those noisy, possessed-looking birds.

When the Guinea hens leave, Audrey will be alone in the coop, so we'll have to get two or three more chickens to keep her company-- and give us some fresh eggs, hopefully. I will definitely pick out another red hen, and I'll see what other types of chickens Mr. Watson has for us to pick from.

The frozen pipes.......... the plumber will be here on Monday to repair and replace everything. We're still using the temporary fix from last week, and plumbers all over Texas have been extra-busy with all the frozen and burst pipes around the state. I just don't understand why they can't install plumbing fixtures down here the way they do up north. Sooner or later, every place in the south will get a "hard freeze," as they call it....... and if the pipes aren't protected to within an inch of their plastic lives, then you can just kiss them all goodbye and call it a day. Or call the plumber.

And once again, there is a god. My husband had got it in his mind to fix the pipes himself. He told me it would be easy. "It's like a puzzle! I love puzzles! I can do this!" I'm sure he could.... but does he really want to do that work? (No.) Does he really have the time to do that work? (No.) I was all set to give him my speech that I wasn't put on this earth to be a plumber's apprentice and that he shouldn't count on me to hold a pipe, run to the hardware store, or stand in the barn turning the pump on and off. But then he came to his senses and decided to let the plumber do the job. Which was a smart thing to do because I would have been tempted to send him to the Caldwell farm along with the Guinea hens.