Our five year adventure in Doha, Qatar ended June 1, 2012, but the memories will always remain. It's back to Texas where I have decided...Qatar isn't cornering the market on "quirky", as I once believed. Thanks for opening my eyes to the world, Doha!
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Now do you understand my lack of empty nest syndrome? To read or leave comments, please click on the comments link below. Thanks!
It seems like only yesterday that I was assisting in a kitten delivery at my front doorstep. As of Saturday morning, fertile Myrtle has bingo-ed, again. This time she had the decency to take refuge in our patio mini jungle and spare me the gory details. Nonetheless, she has added four youngin's to Doha's ever growing cat population. We tried to capture Momma cat, as we affectionately call her, after popping out her last litter, but failed miserably. Two of those (Spitty and Honey~we have to stop naming the strays, it somehow validates our ownership) live in our backyard and I'm thinking four more will eat us out of house and home. Come hell or high water, we're catching her this time around and taking care of her reproducing ways. Like David told me years ago regarding my own fertility, it's time to stop having them and start raising them. Amen, I say.
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While these two opted for a more exotic backdrop. Resort living at its finest...
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screeching halt, make that a screaming halt. I immediately slammed it shut and was practically hyperventilating repeating aloud, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I'm sad to report that I'm in no way embellishing the facts. They are what they are. I paced the floor for a moment trying to think up a plan of action. First call was to an R.N. in the neighborhood, but she was on hiatus in the States. Second call was to a dog loving, bird loving, unfortunately not cat loving individual who was of no help whatsoever. Finally I called the villa people to send someone to my rescue. There was a cat literally birthing her babes on my porch 
with no signs of stopping anytime soon. I don't know why I thought she needed help. Oh, that's right, she didn't. I did. Anyway my rescue team showed up and carried one little kitten off (R.I.P.) and put the other one in a box on the porch. For my benefit, they hosed down the scene to rid it of the laboring evidence. You would never know that I had birthed four babies myself. My gosh, get a grip, woman. The story worsened when the momma cat got spooked and went off somewhere else to finish her business. By then, I had two newborn kittens to bottle feed for 48 hours before she decided to show her face, again. Thankfully, she did and took them away to join the others. Unfortunately, she 
relocated them, yet again, to the safe haven of our back patio where they've been nurtured ever since. So, now the dilemma. I have three kittens three weeks old to find a home for in the very near future. To read or leave comments, please click on the comments link below. Thanks!
Three or four days without a "real" post and you survived and more over I survived. And, "No, Konnie, I'm NOT pregnant!" Other than that possibility, the earth didn't move and the skies didn't come tumbling down as a result of no blog post, but hey, we did have a rainbow. Hmmm, so what was that telling me? It was a beautiful rainbow by the way...one of those wall to wall ones. Multiple pics popped up on twitter and there was even a picture of it gracing the Qatar Tribune this morning. Crossing the twitter waves this morning was a comment, "where else in the world are rain and clouds great weather?". True meanderings, indeed.
"Princess". You know, I use to keep you in the know when it came to the life of Sykes, (R.I.P). Perhaps Princess prefers to stay out of the limelight. She did finally get over her toilet tissue fetish, after I stored it under lock and key. So now she pretty much stays out of trouble and like Sykes before her, she enjoys joining us at the dinner table. Same rules apply to her as Sykes, only front paws are allowed to touch the table. She's very well behaved in that respect, but gets her feelings hurt that we won't share our meal with her. She toggles back and forth between David and myself before going off to sulk in her usual hideout after multiple unsuccessful attempts. Poor poor pitiful Princess.
Princess and I were out on the prowl today. Mission at hand...post spaying suture removal. We drove across town fo
r the simple procedure only to find out on arrival that miss priss had removed her own stitches. Wonderful. A total wasted trip. It wasn't even like I could stop and get groceries or anything with a cat in hand. I did get her a little bangle with her name and phone number while we were
at the vet, so I could feel somewhat accomplished. It ended up being a field trip for Princess. She had a lot of fun navigating once she got over her terror of the moving vehicle, got out of her pillow case, and took over the driving. I 
looked really hard for y'all a really good Doha pic while we were out, but all the quirkiness was laying low. Either that or I'm so used to it, I didn't even notice. Most likely the latter. I'll be more astute next time. Tootles!
...wails no more! David and I took our miserable sex starved Princess to The Veterinary Surgery to be "taken care of" after suffering through heat round three. By suffering, I'm talking about us, not her. It was a welcomed 500QR bargain. Add in a couple of vaccinations, antibiotics and boarding (cuz I didn't want to drop her by 8:00am) and we cashed out at 910QR. That was the price of the "other" vet for just the spaying. The only shortcoming at Veterinary Surgery compared to the competitor was that they didn't offer pet psychology services. As I always tell my kids, you can't have everything. The vet informed me that she's a Russian Blue Cross. Sounds impressive for a Doha cat. Of course, I googled that when I got home and found that if she stays true to her breed, she should be "sensitive to human emotions, intelligent, and tranquil". They also commonly fetch, which Princess has already proudly demonstrated to us. The intelligence test? Fast forward twenty four hours post surgery for the answer. Yesterday, while slaving away at my computer, I thought I heard the front door latch open. It was way to early for David to get home. No way. Yes way. There she was on the front porch with the door ajar. What are the odds to have a second cat to achieve such showmanship? We are proud parents, indeed.
Ever since Kayla received "Frisky" for her seventh birthday, we've been cat owners. During that fifteen year run, we never had the misfortune of having a cat in "heat". That all changed upon Kristi and me arriving back from the states two weeks ago. On first meeting "Princess", Kristi was quite enamored. She kept asking if she could take her back to the States with her. "She's soooo pretty and sweet!", was Kristi's argument to win, or rather lose her case. Boy, did that tune change in the next couple of days. Kayla arrived in Doha two days after us and with her arrival, the dreaded "heat" hit in full force. That cat didn't shut up 24/7 their entire visit. Thank goodness we spent our time out of the villa and hitting the streets or our sanity would have been lost. Poor Princess spent most of her time locked in the bathroom when we were home. Since the girls have left, our kitten is back to her pretty and sweet self, alleluia. The task at hand now is to get her to the vet to be spayed before the vicious cycle hits, again. I called the vet that we used for Sykes and was told the fee for spaying is 900QR. Geez, Louise. That's a pretty good chunk of change coming in at around $250. That doesn't even include her first shots or anything else the vet deems necessary. That's a whole lot of tea at The Ritz!
the mischievous craziness that he exhibited, but life's a lot more relaxing without it. It seems that Pat has the same hankering for bread that Sykes had. Sykes preferred his straight from the toaster when it popped up, but this one wants it fresh from the plastic bag. Two nights in a row I went in the kitchen to find bread crumbs strewn on the cabinet. I thought it was just a fluke the first night, since its food bowl only had a few crumbs in it. But the second night 
confirmed that I'm not going to be able leave my bread on the counter. Where's that bread box that David bought me for our first Christmas...the one that I made him take back to the store. Seriously, what was he thinking? Oh, I bet my new bride would die for this. Ok, it's a few years late, but I'm coming around, dear. Bring it on.
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