"Come here you little shit!" - Jamie

It's starting to get weird. Over the last few weeks, animals have found their way to me for help. Recently I have helped a defenseless turtle trying to cross an interstate. I saved a grumpy little bird from being pulverized by a lawn-mowing maniac, and now we have a litter of kittens.

A few Saturday nights ago Jamie and I were unwinding over some hand-crafted cocktails with friends. The best parties happen in the kitchen, so we all gathered around our kitchen island in clear view of our glass front door. While one of our friends were telling us about their week at work, we noticed a white, fluffy face appearing from our front porch shadows and put it's paw on our front door as if to ask if it could come in and hang out. Jamie shrieked with excitement and completely stopped any and all conversation, bolting to the front door to become this kittens mother (and rub this fluff ball on her face).

The obviously terrified kitten ran from the front door into the shadows under our porch. From there on our night was consumed with finding and coddling this kitten (regardless if I wanted to or not). "Hold the flashlight better! I need to get this baby! Oh man, he's so cute! Come here you little shit!" or some string or order of these sentences were exclaimed over and over again until we finally got the damn thing.

Be careful what you wish for. We now have a litter of kittens patrolling our backyard. What's even funnier is our dogs could give a shit. As long as those two bums are fed, they don't care who comes and goes.

Does anyone want a cat?

-YourFriendMatt

"I just saved your life. Why are you so grumpy." - Me.

I am starting to feel like Ace Ventura. I have been coming across animals that need my help (See Part One of this story). Most recently I was spending my Sunday gardening and playing with our dogs in the yard. We live next to an old church, and they have their lawn cut bi-weekly. Around 11 am or so before they get started with their service the lawn-keeper comes and makes sure the grass looks good for the parishioners. I was done gardening for the day, so I decided to head back in so Jamie and I could get our mimosa on.

I was on our porch and heard a faint "cheep" come from somewhere on the churches lawn. The roar of the riding lawn mower started somewhere in the distance, so I knew the lawn-keeper was on his way. I started looking around the yard stumbled upon a little grumpy bird sitting in the grass. I gave him my best "Hey, get the hell out of here; I don't want you to get run over by a lawnmower" juke attempt, but he called my bluff and continued to sit there. I stared at him for a while, and he stared right back. I blinked first; he was good.

I did a quick internet search of what to do with an injured bird. What I found was don't touch him, put him in a paper bag or shoe box and leave him alone after. Seems easy; I can do this. I went for the search of a paper bag as lawnmower man rounded the corner of the church and was making his way towards my helpless, grumpy friend. I jumped off the porch, paper bag in hand, and leaped in front of the lawn keeper waving my arms like a moron to prevent him from blending this grumpy little guy into a bird smoothie.

We got the bird into the paper bag and left him alone. The internet also told me to leave the bag open and check on him in an hour to see if it flew away. Which, an hour later, he flew away but not before pooping in the bag and on my porch. He was a little bastard.

-YourFriendMatt

Dr. Dolittle Part Three: We have cats...

Dr. Dolittle Part Two: Bird man...