Completely incoherent ramblings about shoes, food and being in love.

Monday, January 30, 2006

The Smoke is Clearing

First and foremost, I want to thank everyone for your thoughts and emails during this whole ordeal. You have been so wonderful. It is bizarre to know that there is this whole group of people on the internet that I have never met, but that care enough to drop a line and wish us the best. I wish I could put into words how much it means to me. Thank you all.

Now that things are starting to calm down around here, my head is actually clear enough to write an entry.

Last week, on top of everything else, our cat Baby, had to be rushed to the vet. Tuesday morning Colin called me at 7:15 and asked me where the dust pan was because one of the cats had gotten up onto a shelf an knocked over some glass. No big deal. I told him where to find it and went back to 'working.' About two seconds later he called me in hysterics. Turns out Baby had a huge gash in his front leg and was bleeding pretty bad. So off to the vet with him. $150 later, I bring home a stitched up, slightly groggy from anesthesia cat. Well, Monkey was NOT happy.

We have brought the cats to the vet separately before and never had a problem when returning home. Maybe it was all of the stress that they are already under, living in one small room, being rescued from a burning building, that sort of thing. Whatever it was, I thought Monkey was going to rip Baby's head off. Monkey would not let him get within five feet of her. Poor Baby was so upset. He started just sitting in the corner staring at the wall. This threw me into violent tears because, HELLO! THAT'S YOUR BROTHER! LOVE HIM! And it's not like we could put them in separate rooms so instead I stayed awake all night protecting wounded Baby. Which was fun. And, I didn't go to work the next day.

My parent's cat, or my cat from my younger years, also got hurt. Maxwell must have gotten into a neighborhood brawl a few weeks ago. Apparently during the bout he was bit. We didn't find it until it abscessed and he licked all the fur off of it. So Maxwell went to the vet the same day Baby did.

Max is the King of the block. He has lived there and reigned over the territory for 15 years. The other cats know not to fuck with him. Even dogs cower in fear and cross to the other side of the street when they see him. But new neighbor cat is fearless. Or stupid. Or maybe just hasn't heard not to fuck with Max yet. Cause he did. $150 later, Max comes home wearing one of those collars to keep him from licking/scratching at the wound. Which worked for all of 20 minutes. At which time I ran to the store and grabbed a package of onesies. We played Project Runway. "Your challenge this week is to make a cat fit into a onesie designed for a newborn". He hates us. Plus, now he's not allowed outside. Try teaching a 15 year old cat new tricks. So the poor old man just lays around the house looking pitiful, longing to get outside and challenge neighbor cat to a rematch.

So, I think that you're all caught up now. When it rains it poors...


Blogger Erika said...

You should DEFINITELY watch Grey's Anatomy. You can pick it right up no problem.

2:24 PM

Blogger janet said...

well, you can still be funny in times of despair. that's good to know, right?

i am trying to plan my next weekend in DE, when I am taking you out. manis and pedis? something else? tell me what you desire...

8:42 PM


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