Nothing to See Here

Kitty seems to be back to normal, perhaps eating a bit more than usual as if to show me, "No appetite problems here! Everything's fine - I feel great - look how much I can fit in my mouth! I LOVE kibble!"

The vet called this afternoon and it was all good news - blood work came back normal, urine screen was fine - everything looked OK. Still don't know what it might have been or if it was really worth the ordeal she went through, but I guess we know for sure nothing serious is going on.

I'm sure she never wants to return to any vet at any time ever again - never ever. Maybe tonight she'll put on a play and show us how many push ups she can do.

Because I Don't Speak Cat

I had to take my baby kitten to the vet today because she wouldn't tell me what was going on with her. She was fine yesterday - playful, healthy appetite - her very normal, sweet kitty self.

This morning, she didn't get up for breakfast, something she (and the boys) are always excited about, because they get Greenies treats with their food. And she spent all day at the end of our bed where she slept all night.

Rather than take any chances, I took her in. I hope it was worth the turmoil. Some might think me a bad mother, but I don't take my kids to the vet very often - hardly ever, really.

They're exclusively indoor cats, we feed them the healthiest food we can find and they're well taken care of. And thankfully, being the mutts they are, they have hearty little systems and they're all still young.

But Nikita sometimes eats things she shouldn't, like strips of paper, carpet fibers and now & then, she tries to eat my hair. With her occasional cookie-parking, I couldn't help but wonder if she ate something and was in trouble.

After the undignified temperature taking procedure by the technician, the vet came in and started the exam. Then they took her in the back to get a blood and urine sample. While waiting, I heard what sounded like a wicked cat fight in the back and I wondered what they were doing to some poor cat. Then I wondered, could that be my sweet little kitty who still meows like a kitten???

Annnd yes, it was. Today I saw my loving baby turn into a hell cat, ready to kill anyone in a white coat who came near her.

After the first time they tried to take blood, she put up a great fight and they backed off. Then the vet came to talk to me & told me she (the cat) had reached her limit for now, but they'd try again in a little while. I asked her to please continue in the exam room with me.

They brought her back in and I helped keep her calm while they took blood from both her back legs, because the one they tried the first time had a smaller vein and they weren't getting enough. Ugh. Then they gave her subcutaneous fluids. Then they gave her a shot of antibiotics just in case, while we wait 24 hours for her blood work to come back.

During her struggle in the back she tore a claw, which was bleeding by the time they brought her back into the exam room. I can't imagine how frightened she must have been. I'm so, so sorry sweetie. But what else could I do? I don't have vet care facilities at home, nor do I know anything about veterinary medicine.

After her horrible ordeal, she zoomed back into her carrier and as soon as she was inside it she turned to kill anything coming near her. It was scary and impressive. My little fizzle whisker, squeasel, baby kitten sweet Nikitakita, a crazed vet killer. You made mommy proud.

And now we wait to see what the blood work and urine tests have to say. I say there has *got* to be better ways to treat small animals in this day and age.

What was great to see was as soon as we got home she made a beeline for her food dish and tore through a good portion of kibble and later, a small amount of yummy wet food and she's kept it all down. I think she'll be OK. She has to be.

Incrediflucky

Today I went shopping at the Nob Hill Foods to pick up ingredients for a pumpkin bisque. I don't enjoy grocery shopping, so I like to get in, get what I need and get the hell out.

I was moving at an efficient clip from one end of the giant store to the other and back again making sure I found everything I needed. I'd jammed my wallet into the front pocket of my pants and it wasn't very comfortable there as I speed-walked through the store, but I was intent on getting out of there as fast as I could.

I found everything I needed in record time and was happy to be done quickly and on my way home to make a bisque.

Rather than wait in line for a human checker, I used the robot check out & scanned my own stuff. I was glad I remembered how to enter the produce codes instead of trying to look everything up in the computer. In just a few minutes I had all my stuff scanned and bagged.

And then it was time to pay. I checked my pocket - no wallet. No fucking wallet. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit SHIT. HOLY SHIT. MY WALLET IS GONE. I was flipping out, ever so subtly, with all my shit scanned, just sitting there... I started to panic a little.

I found a guy behind the customer service counter and told him I'd just rung up all my stuff and realized I'd dropped my wallet. At that moment, one of the checkers came up and called me by name and asked if I'd lost my wallet.

She said they'd been paging me, but I was so focused on being a good cashier, I never heard it. A customer had turned it in just a moment before, but he/she was already gone and I couldn't say thank you. I couldn't believe how lucky I'd been - incredibly fucking lucky - incrediflucky.

Thank you, kind soul, who found my wallet I'd stupidly tried to jam into a shallow pocket and thank you for turning it in immediately, saving me from a heart attack and stroke right there in aisle 1. Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you.

And the bisque turned out wonderfully.

Cats Are Needy

Which means, it's a good thing I don't have kids. What is up with three cats all needing attention from me when I'm trying to work, watch compelling guilty-pleasure television, or use the bathroom? The whole point of having three of them was that they could bond with EACH OTHER.

Things haven't worked out according to that plan. Each thinks he/she is the only cat, or should be the only cat and demands attention throughout the day and will not be ignored. If they had thumbs they'd be throwing things at me and breaking my shit.

Every time I'm on the phone they demand more attention and then the bird joins the clamoring chorus, yakking along with me in his unintelligible dialect. People on the other end of the phone think I have boisterous family visiting because he sounds like me, only louder and more garbled.

Neo, the street kitty who now resembles a small bear cub demands (and gets) lap time, which involves rolling around while I vigorously scratch his thick noggin and then he starts to climb - first up into my armpit then up the front of my shirt, purr-meowing the whole time, coating my pants and shirt with fur. Swell. When he hits overload limit he gets dumped onto the floor and I get to go wash everything he's touched - he makes me itch, that one.

The others aren't as bad, but they still get mouthy and clingy, instead of being cool, detached and aloof. Where are *those* cats? Those are the kind of cats I need.
Can you imagine if I had kids? Yee-ikes.

Gerry vs. Gerry

I watched the movie Gerry yesterday and I don't know what to think. Interesting, weird, quiet, moody, sad. And I just kept thinking, how could you be so stupid to not only lose your way, but go out for a hike without any water? Who does that?

And were there really two Gerry's or was it like Fight Club - one fractured Gerry? Why does Gerry 1 strangle Gerry 2 at the end? Sorry, if you haven't yet seen it, but I'm not spoiling too much. It happens, but there's no clear reason why, or if it really did happen (that is, if Gerry was MPD, he solved that problem, but no one was actually "strangled").

The whole thing was weird. I think I liked it, but mostly, it bothered me. It's not easy to sit and watch the very avoidable demise of two perfectly healthy young men.

Robitussinnnn

Mmm... I can't focus my eyes right now - any of the three - but I'm not coughing up a spleen, so I'll take the compromised vision.

Last week David brought home a nice cold from work, which I thought I had dodged and was feeling so superior, and then Sunday night the sore throat set in.

I still feel superior 'cause I'm getting over it faster than he is, but it's still a drag. What is with the throbbing headache advil can't defeat? Why does that have to be thrown in on top of swollen sinuses you can't blow anything out of, yet are able to slowly leak snot onto your pillow?

This morning I kept drinking the cough syrup til I thought I'd had a sufficient dose. It's supposed to be non-drowsy, but I think if you triple the dose, it's not as non-drowsy as they'd planned and a third eye grows into your forehead. I need to lie down.

Almost a Rocket Scientist

My fluffy little parrot apparently isn't just a pretty feathered face. I gave him an animal cracker cookie this morning, because of course he loves eating cookies the shape of elephants, monkeys, and most of all, CATS.

He took the cookie and immediately dropped it into his water dish, waited a couple of moments, then picked it back out and commenced eating it.

Turns out he likes them a little softened up and knows exactly how to make that happen. Now if he could only start doing the dishes and my laundry.

Update: I gave him another cookie this morning (Friday), and he was on his play perch, which is next to his cage. He took it and walked over to his cage, up onto the top, over to the water dish and dropped it in before munching it down. Now he won't eat them any other way. I love it.

Another Update: The other day I gave him a cookie dipped in coffee - what a mistake. You have to give him credit - he's got quite a palate.

I Love Gordon Ramsay

Not like I love the new weather guy - I love Gordon Ramsay because watching him is like watching a car chase through crowded streets. And he's funny.

That, and who doesn't love watching some poor bastard be emasculated on every show? Why do *I* seem to enjoy that so much?

His new shows, Kitchen Nightmares (UK and US versions) are brilliant. He wouldn't be a "restaurant tycoon" if he didn't know something about running that business.

But the poor saps he finds who are struggling to stay afloat are incredible. The pompous managers who love using the restaurant as their social playground - those are the best fodder.

Last night, the manager served Ramsay his lunch and back in the kitchen told the chef/owner how intimidating it was to wait on him. Moments later he tells the camera in the "confessional" shot that he's not intimidated by anyone, no matter who they are.

Then later, he cried. Many times. It was so hilarious. A total ploy for attention and of course, he was ridiculed.

It's a challenge to keep up with the dialog since so much of what Ramsay says is bleeped. " Bleep all, I bleeeeep bleep your bleeping bleeeeeeeeeeeep."

And then I wonder, if he's married, what must that be like when discussing typical marital issues like, say, finances or chores. Or what if, god forbid, his wife forgot to do something she said she'd do - does she just not come home? That would probably be my decision.

Write Whatcha Know...

Whoever said that wasn't kidding. Man, yesterday was a shit day for writing, and I wasn't doing so well with my camera, either.

But back to the words... I had some uncomfortable blockage in my brainial colon while trying to rewrite an article for a client on a topic I don't know much about and for which there's limited information to work from. Here's a shot of me working on it:


I struggled with the article, then I struggled with my camera to practice what I learned last week in Chicago. It was not a good day, and I wasn't even fighting a headache or other ailment - my brain just wouldn't function.

So, I had some cookies, watched some TV and went to bed early. Oh, and at one point in the afternoon I yelled (politely) at Crazy Neighbor Bob to turn down his stupid truck stereo he was blasting while sweeping leaves off his front porch - and it wasn't anything good he was playing.

Who does that? Who plays his car stereo so loudly it's louder than a radio playing inside your own house? What a jerk. No, Bob, only you enjoy quasi-country-pop tunes played loud enough to be heard in Fresno - the rest of us would like to make our own listening choices.

But I'm happy to say today was much better. I re-shot the photos and I think I'm back on track, I *think* I successfully reworked the article, and I have not yelled at any neighbors, but it's still early.