Tag Archive 'kitty'

Jan 10 2009

Just visiting.

The best part about being home is simply…being home.  I love my house, even though a lot of work needs to be done to it, and it’s not always as clean as it could be.  I still love being here.  All my stuff is here.  My cats are here.  I can watch my own TV and work in my own kitchen and it’s all good.

The worst part about being home is the reason we came home early – The Man’s uncle passed away and the funeral was yesterday. I didn’t know him – he was from the side of The Man’s family that we rarely visit with – but it’s never enjoyable to see a bunch of people you care about hurting so badly.

The other thing that’s dampening my mood is that we’ll be leaving again soon.  I was, and still am, pretty excited about our upcoming trip to Nashville, but the fact that we’re only home for one week is bumming me out a little bit.  I’m doing all this laundry, because I know I have to turn around and pack up the clothes again.  I’m frantically cleaning the house because it not only needs it (oh God, does it need it), but also because if I don’t get it done, it will be another TWO WEEKS before I can get to it.  I’m not interested in knowing what my house will look like after a month of not dusting.

I’m also sad about leaving the cats again.  They’re fine and everything, and Chris takes good care of them when we’re gone, but I miss them.  And Destiny is getting a little too big for her brain damaged britches – she tried to jump onto a chair today, forgot that her limbs don’t respond as quickly as they used to, therefore fell down and landed flat on her back.  She seems OK, but she seemed OK the last time too, and a couple of days later she was spending the night at the vet’s.  We already have a vet appointment on Monday – I’m interested in taking her off the prednisone – so if she knocked some more damage into her brain, I’ve already got her in.  Great timing, huh?

Today was mostly laundry and putting away the Christmas tree.  There’s now a big hole in the dining room furnishings, where I think I’m going to put the small recliner from our bedroom.  I’m not sure.  There’s also a rather large display cabinet sitting in the middle of the floor that needs to be hung up.  This is going to be my china cabinet, thanks to Dr. Mom who recommended I find something that hangs rather than something that takes up even more valuable floor space.  I’m nervous about getting it up on the wall, and I’m nervous about it STAYING on the wall once it’s up and loaded with stuff.  Plus, it will be hanging right over The Man and Chris’s computer desks, so if it falls down, there may be some collateral damage.  Eeek.

The Man is working on the spare room (must stop calling it the office), building the closet.  Once that’s done, we need to look for flaws in the finish work, then prime and paint, then get the carpet in.  Then the room could be used, even though the trim work won’t be done.  I’m really looking forward to having that room back.

Tomorrow we’re going to 8:00 AM church, then The Man will be playing D&D and I’ll be heading out to Grandma’s so I can see her before we leave town again.  I’m hoping J-bird is feeling better by tomorrow and she can come to Grandma’s too.  I haven’t seen her since Christmas.

When I get home from Nashville, I’m going to have to start scheduling time with my friends.  I told Special Op B we’d get together in January, before I knew we were going to Nashville.  I need to get together for another lunch date with Julio, and I need to go visit Mackers.

But first, I need to finish cleaning my house.

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Nov 18 2008

It’s Tuesday night, so the house is silent.

I get a lot of questions about Destiny.  People want to know how she’s doing, and apparently “she’s retarded” isn’t the answer they’re looking for.  So, here’s your friendly cat update:

Destiny is doing better than we expected she’d be doing.  She is no longer crapping outside of the litter box, which is a nice, unexpected bonus.  She is back to vomiting up her food because she eats too fast, as opposed to because she has vertigo.  Although, she probably still has vertigo to a certain extent.  She’s just learned to cope with it better.  We no longer have to keep her confined at night, but she still cannot climb stairs.  To keep her from trying to climb stairs anyway, we invested in a baby gate, and let me tell you, it’s a good thing no one was listening to our conversation in Babies R Us, because they wouldn’t have known we were talking about a cat, and they would have been HORRIFIED:

The Man:  You want to get that one?
Me:  Sure, what’s wrong with it?
The Man:  Well, it’s a little cheap.
Me:  We don’t need a real good one.
The Man:  Yeah, but it won’t fit quite right.
Me:  Oh, come on.  She’s brain damaged.  It’s not going to take much to keep her out.
The Man:  Let’s get this one instead.
Me:  Oh, all right.  If it will make you feel better.

Anyways, she’s all right.  She travels a lot better, falling down much less often, and is almost back up to pre-stroke speed.  She still cannot jump onto furniture, and probably will never be able to again.  She eats well, is down to 1/2 prednisone every other day, and seems to have the same personality as ever.  By which I mean:  she’s cute, but dumb, and now she’s wobbly into the bargain.

This next thing falls under the header of Too Much Information, but hell, it’s the internet.  I went to Special Op B’s house last Friday for movies and wine, and we got to talking about the ongoing babymaking efforts.  I told her an amusing story about my sister-in-law, who runs a spa/alternative healing place, offering to give me a colonic because, according to her, my transverse colon is probably squishing my uterus.  I told B that even if that was the case, having my SIL give me an enema is not a line I’m willing to cross.  So Special Op B hands me this big bottle o’ pills, telling me that they would basically do the same thing over the course of a week.  Why does B have enema pills sitting around?  I DIDN’T ASK.  So, being me, I took the pills as directed.  Mostly, they give me gas.  There you go.

Saturday I went to see Mackers, and we ended up embarrassing her pre-teen daughter by hand jiving to several oldies songs in a restaurant.  And doing the robot to Daft Punk.  And singing Cake real loud.  And basically, acting like pre-teens, which is apparently NOT COOL after you reach a certain age.  We ate lunch, we went shopping, we had fun, and it was entirely too short of a time, but dark comes early this time of year and with hunting season, the deer are on the move.

I’ve been transcribing reports all week for Dr. Mom, and it’s okay.  It’s pretty easy work.  Sometimes I have to stop and look up words, because she uses words and terms that I’m not familiar with – she’s pretty good about spelling drug names and such, but sometimes I have to puzzle things out.  The only thing is that sometimes I get bummed out because the people are SO messed up that I feel badly for them.  There was one lady today, her list of symptoms (both physical and mental), was like 14 items long, and man, I felt sorry for her.  But other than the occasional bummed-outedness, I like doing it.

So, that’s my life right now.  I’m gassy, I have a retarded cat, my friends are weird, and I have a decent job.  What else can you ask for?

I’ll tell you what:  a fireplace.  Because I am freaking COLD.

She’s not dead, she’s laying in a sunbeam that I had to block so the picture wouldn’t be overexposed.

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Nov 04 2008

Election Day Madness.

Published by under Pets

I got my civic duty out of the way before 9 AM this morning, leaving me little else to do today except grocery shop and bite my nails as I watch the exit poll results.  My fingers might be down to bloody stubs by the end of the day.  It seems that despite telling myself over and over not to get my hopes up so that I won’t be crushed AGAIN, some hope managed to creep in.  Damn you, Barack Obama and your infestation of hope!  Now I have to stress all day, worrying that my small hope will be for naught, when I could have been a comfortable cynic.

After I got back from the polls, I tried to take a picture of myself wearing my “I Voted!” sticker, so you could all have photographic evidence.  Unfortunately, I was unable to take a picture that didn’t represent me as a triple-chinned albino doofus, so I decided to take pictures of my drunken cat instead.  But once again it was proven that taking pictures of this cat is NIGH IMPOSSIBLE.

First of all, if you sit on the floor, she is instantly all up ons.  I tried to back up, to put her back a few feet, and to wait it out, but once a cat sticks her head to the camera lens and starts to “mark” it, it’s pretty much all over.  Then I thought, “Well, she wants attention.  I’ll pet her for awhile.”  Bad idea.  Because Destiny is like an addict for petting.  She has phases:

Phase 1:  Enjoy the petting.  Purr, prance around, mew happily.

Phase 2:  Get aggressive.  Normal attention is no longer enough.  Head butt!  Head butt!  Grind the side of your face into human’s hand.

Phase 3:  Sloppy drunk.  Drool a lot.  Roll around on the floor.  Slur.

As you can see, it can get ugly pretty fast.

And in case you were wondering what happened to Fate, the non-drunken cat, she is currently hiding under the couch.  She’s probably worried about the exit polls.

(P.S. November 1 was the one year anniversary of me and The Man quitting smoking.  One year!  Crikie!)

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Oct 16 2008

Hopefully the last cat update for awhile.

Published by under Pets

I just got back from taking Destiny to the vet, and hopefully we’re done going there for awhile.  The vet says we don’t have to come back for two months unless she starts getting worse.  I’m also supposed to taper down her prednisone dosage to every other day, again, as long as she’s not getting worse.   She apparently lost weight in the last two weeks (how? I don’t know. She’s eating more than she was), but the vet says she’s stronger, has more energy, and is more willing to stand and walk.  That’s good.  She also said there’s not much we can do about her new habit of crapping outside the litter box, since she probably doesn’t even realize she’s missing the box.  That’s bad – for me.  Because I get to start the day with a steamy pile of poo.  At least she hits the newspaper we put outside her box. . . most of the time.

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Oct 10 2008

Another friggin’ cat post?!

Published by under Introspection,Pets

Destiny is out and about.  We don’t keep her in the kennel anymore, because of the previous poop incidents.  I couldn’t stand the fact that if she got her cage dirty an hour after we went to bed, then she had to sit in filth for six more hours until I got up and rescued her.  So, now she is out and about in the house all day.  At night, I set her up in the bathroom and she stays in there.  That way if she falls down and scatters nastiness all around the litter box, she at least can go to the other side of the room and sleep on her clean bedding.  She hasn’t been improving as quickly as she was.  We seemed to have reached the point where any further improvement is going to be gradual.  She can get around, but she still falls over a lot.  She can’t climb stairs or jump onto furniture.  She looks kind of like an automaton because she is so jerky when she walks around.  But, she seems to be pretty happy and is eating well, so I’m guessing everything is going okay.  We have another vet appointment next week.  I’m sure the vet will say something really cheerful like “Well, it could still be a brain tumor.” or “She probably isn’t going to get better. . . ever.”  Those are the kinds of things I hear when I take Destiny in.  Even when I tell her how much better Destiny is doing, or how she seems to be more energetic and happy – the vet comes back with something like “You never know with brain injuries.  She could crash tomorrow.”  Can I just say I do not like this particular vet?  I like the other two vets, the ones who have seen Destiny for nine years.  This one is Dr. Gloomy-Come-Lately, and it pisses me off.  If she wasn’t taking good care of the cat, I would refuse to see her.  But as it is, all she’s doing is being Eeyore, and Destiny doesn’t understand her dire predictions anyway.  I mostly just ignore her, or if I’m feeling particularly sassy, I tell her that there’s no point in worrying about what might happen, since she’s already said there’s nothing we can do to prevent it.

In other news, I noticed when I linked that post up there, that it was my 900th post.  This got me all curious, so I decided to see what my other “milestone” posts were:

  • 100:  Feeling kinda bad.  I suck at titles.  The thing that cracked me up in this post was the last couple of sentences, where I talked about how I needed to stop letting myself go and join a gym.  I think I was 3 sizes smaller at that point than I am now.  Not letting self go:  FAIL.
  • 200:  It lives! Oh man, the Hell Neighbors.  I am so glad we don’t live in a trailer park anymore.  However, many of our current neighbors also let their dogs run free.  But they are all nice people and take care of their dogs in other ways.  So at least I don’t have to deal with dogs running loose AND loud arguments about how “all I ever wanted was a salt water fish tank and you WOULDN’T LET ME HAVE IT!” (true story)
  • 300: And you wonder what we talk about? I love my husband.  We still have variations of this conversation.
  • 400:  I guess it’s better than constant scabbing. Oh look, another post about Destiny and her health problems.
  • 500:  Disappointing mass media. I guess this is just a typical post where I go on and on about nothing.
  • 600:  Running on. . . running on empty. Wedding planning.  Looking back on it, our wedding was pretty simple to plan, but at the time, it sure felt like everything was going too fast and I was going to ruin everything by forgetting to order napkins or something.  It’s funny to think that we almost ruined everything by forgetting that we needed to get a marriage license until like, the LAST POSSIBLE SECOND.
  • 700:  Every time. I hate it when something on my car breaks.  But I love going up north!  J-bird and I are heading up for a long weekend in a couple of weeks.  Eee!
  • 800:  B-day +1. Aw, my 30th birthday post.  How appropriate.  What’s up with my smug little grin in that picture, though?

Did you enjoy this ramble down memory lane?  I know I did.  Now I just have to remember to mention when it’s the big 1000.

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