My husband and I, in addition to having pretty serious day jobs, are working musicians. We have a great big band filled with talented musicians and writers, and it made sense that we would do an album.
We spent a little more than a week in October of 2008 at Bias Studios in Springfield, VA, recording our album.
The owners of the studio - Bob and Gloria Dawson - are great people. They brought their lovely scottish terrier, Yogi, to work with them every day. Yogi was such a character. When I had a break between times they needed me in the studio, I would go out into the meeting area and hang out with Yogi, who was still more puppy than dog. Over lunch one day, I asked Bob Dawson how Yogi got his name.
"I wanted to name him Meatball, but Gloria wouldn't let me." And that was all he said about that.
A few days later, I'm pulling into my neighborhood and I see this little black splotch kind of in the gutter on the curb near a neighbor's house. I get out, and it's obvious that the blob is a kitten. She's laying there meowing at me. I ask the neighbors if it's theirs.
"No," they say. "It just kind of showed up. We've asked around it doesn't belong to anyone."
A few months earlier I had started volunteering with one of the local rescues, so I scooped that kitten up with the idea that I would turn it over to rescue once I got it it inside and fed. I came in the house and went down into the basement where my husband was and said "Look what I found!" I showed him the kitten.
"What are we going to do with it?" my husband asked.
"We're going to feed her and put her in the bathroom to rest. We'll take her to our vet on Monday and get her medically checked out and then she can go into rescue."
We spent a little more than a week in October of 2008 at Bias Studios in Springfield, VA, recording our album.
The owners of the studio - Bob and Gloria Dawson - are great people. They brought their lovely scottish terrier, Yogi, to work with them every day. Yogi was such a character. When I had a break between times they needed me in the studio, I would go out into the meeting area and hang out with Yogi, who was still more puppy than dog. Over lunch one day, I asked Bob Dawson how Yogi got his name.
"I wanted to name him Meatball, but Gloria wouldn't let me." And that was all he said about that.
A few days later, I'm pulling into my neighborhood and I see this little black splotch kind of in the gutter on the curb near a neighbor's house. I get out, and it's obvious that the blob is a kitten. She's laying there meowing at me. I ask the neighbors if it's theirs.
"No," they say. "It just kind of showed up. We've asked around it doesn't belong to anyone."
A few months earlier I had started volunteering with one of the local rescues, so I scooped that kitten up with the idea that I would turn it over to rescue once I got it it inside and fed. I came in the house and went down into the basement where my husband was and said "Look what I found!" I showed him the kitten.
"What are we going to do with it?" my husband asked.
"We're going to feed her and put her in the bathroom to rest. We'll take her to our vet on Monday and get her medically checked out and then she can go into rescue."
So up the stairs we went. I put her in the larger bathroom with my husband
and went downstairs to get her some food. I put a 3oz can of wet food on a paper plate and brought it upstairs. This kitten went to town on that food - ate every. last. bite. Then I picked her up and put her in my lap. She rolled onto her back and fell sound asleep.
Needless to say, the cute got the better of us and there was NO WAY we were going to be parting with this kitten. We named her Meatball - in part because of Bob Dawson but mostly because she looked like a little black and white Meatball. She went to the vet on Monday and was judged to be about 8-10 weeks old and healthy.
She spent another two weeks in medical isolation before being retested for anything nasty. She was spayed a month or so later, integrated with the other household cats, and became a member of the family.
and went downstairs to get her some food. I put a 3oz can of wet food on a paper plate and brought it upstairs. This kitten went to town on that food - ate every. last. bite. Then I picked her up and put her in my lap. She rolled onto her back and fell sound asleep.Needless to say, the cute got the better of us and there was NO WAY we were going to be parting with this kitten. We named her Meatball - in part because of Bob Dawson but mostly because she looked like a little black and white Meatball. She went to the vet on Monday and was judged to be about 8-10 weeks old and healthy.
She spent another two weeks in medical isolation before being retested for anything nasty. She was spayed a month or so later, integrated with the other household cats, and became a member of the family.
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