Randoms

Dragons that need clicks. :) (I guess the Dragon Cave is somewhat back up... I dunno)




Erich and I saw our best man's production of The Sound of Music at one of the local all-girl Catholic academies this weekend. He directs both plays per year at the school, with his mother as the long-time musical director & a brother helping with backstage work. Very, very good, especially for a high school performance. Two girls in particular, twin sisters, have the most amazing voices. Something genetic runs in that family!

Sunday was a lazy day. I made corned beef & cabbage. It takes too long to cook on a weeknight with my commute schedule (really don't want to eat at 11 pm). It was delicious as always, and worth the time needed to cook it. My recipe includes beer & a bunch of spices in the boil pot, so it definitely doesn't come out with the "bland" flavor that a lot of people associate with boiled food. We have a bunch leftover, so I think tonight's going to be a leftovers night. :)

It's one of those dinners I should make more often, but we only cook it for St. Patrick's Day. I suppose it's mostly because it's something I really can only make on the weekend. It takes about 4 hours, all told. It's kind of like turkey - I love making it, but just don't that often due to the time involved. But really, neither are THAT complicated. Most of the time the food's just cooking on its own. *shrug*

I signed up for Netflix finally... I know I'm a bit behind the times on it, but it's honestly been more due to the fact that I just didn't have the time to watch a lot of DVDs until recently. Now that things are slowing down, and the weather's better so I can safely transport the laptop on the train again... it made sense.

I'm starting out with the John Adams miniseries on HBO last year. (And no, there's no spoilers here - unless you don't know how the American Revolution turned out). I'm three eps in, and it's very, very good. The actors are phenominal, and the scenery is gorgeous. I like that while it's definitely from the American perspective (and New England perspective in particular), some of the ugliness of the American side is being shown, too. AND... it shows the Founding Fathers in more realistic ways than we normally get in our glorified history classes here in the States. I'm appreciating that these men have flaws and limitations to what they achieve, the fighting between them, and how the "some things never change" bumbling when they see the European heads of state, who look down their noses at the silly new worlders as children... makes sense.

It's also surreal to see Boston's portrayal. Seeing places that I see all the time - the old State house, the wharves, etc... and then the places that don't exist anymore, particularly the hills. I realize I live in one of the hotbeds of early American history, but I'm finding that I'm starting to take it all for granted. It's wonderful to see it refreshed again.

Colley's going to the vet tomorrow for another round of dental cleaning & tooth extraction. *sigh* Poor cat. He's going to be gummy within a few years at this rate. Granted, he is getting older (he's 10), but man, he has poor teeth genetically. He'd lost a good deal on his own before he was 5. We had to have a couple more pulled 2 years ago (including one of his front fangs.. so now he's a snaggletooth). Poor guy.

Thank goodness for tax refunds, eh? Kitty dental work doesn't come cheap.

Thursday Thirteen #26: Non-related musings

My brain has officially gone into wedding mush autopilot, so I don't really have anything witty for this week's Thursday Thirteen. But I can come up with 13 random thoughts for the week.

Measi's Brain-Fried Thursday Thirteen

1. My wedding invites are all addressed, save the four that my mom finally just emailed me fifteen minutes ago. That means I can get them addressed and out the door this weekend. Big, big check mark off the wedding "to do" list.

2. If you live in the U.S., love science fiction, and aren't watching the new series of Doctor Who that started last week - turn on the television on Friday night. Seriously. Having seen the entire series, it's fantastic. It's not the goofy sets of the 70s on PBS you may remember, as good as Tom Baker was. The last six episodes of this series are not to be missed, in my opinion. Blink, in particular, scheduled to air on September 7th, is not to be missed TV for any lover of really good, creepy TV shows, sci-fi or not.

3. Next shows on my Brit TV list - I've just started watchng Life on Mars. Brilliant writing, great acting. I garnished stares on the commuter train this morning as I broke out laughing at episode 2. I'm also starting Our Friends in the North, as a continuation of shows starring actors from Doctor Who. I've heard it's an amazing series.

4. I've now lost a total of 20 pounds due to wedding stress. Which I'm really not happy about, because I tend to double-gain back once I'm out of stress.

5. There is a distinct weather line ringing Boston at Route 128/I-95 this week. Outside of 128, it's hot and humid. But inside the ring, it's been in the low 70's, and foggy until today. It's throwing me off on my commute - hot when I leave in the morning, cold when I arrive at work.

6. I'm tired of hearing people chew loudly at their desks at work. The sound of people chewing (presumably with their mouths open) makes my stomach turn.

7. My World of Warcraft guild, the Burrito Bandits, has a new tabard - looking like a lobster bib. (a photo is over on my Flickr page). Our guild leader is insane... in a good way.

8. Speaking of burritos... I think a buffalo chicken one from Boloco is calling my name for lunch today.

9. I bought my first Moleskine notebook over the weekend for doodling and scribbling random thoughts. Because I need more notebooks.

10. I'm tired of my work wardrobe. It's bleh and boring and getting sloppy. But I hate the plus-sized clothes for summer, and can't justify a spending spree. Until after the wedding, I'm just going to endure it.

11. New official count on Hoodsie's toes - 7 on each front paw, 6 on one back paw, 7 on the other back paw. Boy's got a lotta extra claws. And my legs have paid the price as he play-pounces.

12. Holy shit I'm getting married in 9 weeks.

13. I really, truly need about a month-long vacation.

Rambling Thoughts on a lot of topics

So much swirling around lately... it's no wonder that I had to deal with insomnia last night. *sigh*

A huge thank you to everyone who has been commenting, emailing, or calling lately... I really do appreciate it. I haven't been able to wrap my brain around all of my thoughts on the matter, but I'm glad to hear that I'm not overreacting on this. I'm well aware of my tendency to do so... and to be slightly selfish. But in this matter, I want to be, dammit. :)

Erich and I are winding down for the evening - watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire for the umpteenth time. He's teasing me every time David Tennant comes on screen. I think he's feeling slightly jealous for some reason...

(he really doesn't have anything to worry about. I don't think said Scotsman is showing up at my house anytime soon).

Wedding
Haven't talked to Mom yet. Not looking forward to it. Not feeling much better than last week, but at least I'm no longer numb. I'm just very pissed off and very depressed about the whole thing. But I'm so thankful for the people we chose to be in our wedding party - both our best man (Tone) and our maid of honor (Melinda) spent a lot of time this week trying to console, cheer us up, and do some both sarcastic and not-so-sarcastic suggestions for revenge. It definitely helped. Add to that that the rest of my non-family bridesmaids have been there as well... and yeah, I'm lucky to have them. I really am.

I'm still really trying to find any reason to keep planning this wedding. *sigh* We'll see - at some point this week, Erich and I need to talk to her. And if we do go forward, I absolutely need the following things to happen this week to feel remotely sane:

- book a photographer
- finalize the guest list
- order my invitations
- make a reservation for my first dress fitting
- figure out what steps we need to take for our officiant to be legal in Rhode Island

We'll see. But let's just say... I'm much less willing to be openly sensitive to my family's religious issues right now. If it didn't scare me to open my faith up to my family so much (a discussion for another entry...), I would be planning the public handfasting right now.

Hoodsie
We've slowly started releasing Hoodsie into the general cat population. After several surprisingly smooth days, we've started dealing with the more expected growing pains. The male cats are trying to figure out the new pecking order. It's been a bit interesting. No complete all out fights, but they've come close. The hardest time to deal with him is in the late evening, just because he's still wanting to go out and roam.

We're finding that large doses of loose catnip on the floor to drug them all into oblivion is helping tremendously, though. Gus and Hoodsie, despite being rankled at each other all day, are currently sprawled out next to each other covered in the blessed weed, well beyond stoned.

I'm in full support of cat addictions, if it helps soothe the adjustment process. *grin*

Weekend
We had a busy weekend here again, which was fun (and honestly just what I needed to keep myself from brooding too often). Early Saturday, two of my sorority sisters, Masquedbunny (who is one of my other aforementioned awesome bridesmaids), and Whishastar took the commuter train down from Boston for a "Stitch, Bitch & Who" day. Not so much of the stitching occurred, and bitching was actually fairly light this time, too. But lots of Doctor Who. All of the third series to date in a day. Including the second half of the two-parter I've been impatiently waiting for since it was announced months ago. And it did not disappoint. At all.

Later that day, our friend Matt (one of Erich's kickass groomsmen) came down, also for some of the aforementioned Who. Everyone spent the night. We had coffee & donuts, and then I took the girls back up to Boston.

Matt & Erich stayed home to play World of Warcraft, and then went out to see 28 Weeks Later (on which I passed). We continued playing WoW when they got home until late in the evening. Matt and I stayed up to watch some other Who stuff, and I found myself dealing with a nasty case of insomnia that refused to let me fall asleep until about four or so.

Needless to say, between that, the headcold I had last week, and the stress of last week, I needed a serious mental health day, and took one of my Essential Days today.

I didn't exactly get the stitching done I needed to, nor the writing, nor the beta reading. But in light of the week... I'm not beating myself up at all about it.


Lots of thoughts swirling. And I need a serious vacation.

Maybe Erich and I will have to reconsider our plans to put off our honeymoon until next year... *sigh*

Our new Hemingway Cat

Hoodsie
Originally uploaded by measi.

Meet Hoodsie - the newest addition to the insane cat posse.

There are three other photos of him at my Flickr site. He wasn't too thrilled with my interruption of his evening nap with the camera.

But I did want to get first pictures of what he looks like - we're adding yet another cat fur color to the menagerie - and also to show off the amazing feet that just fascinate me every time I look at him.

See - with the exception of Elly, who has little back dew claws that make her a very rare form of polydactyl cat (usually the back paws are only affected if the front paws are), I've never had a multi-toed cat. Even Elly's extra toes aren't really visible unless you look closely - her dew claws are tiny. They're full toes - complete with a paw pad and all, but they don't touch the ground, and they're so small that they blend in with the rest of her fur.

And then Hoodsie comes along, who is insanely polydactyl. The boy has lots and lots of toes. Two extra on every foot. Three extra on one back foot. True Hemingway Cat here (and I absolutely adore that term... very literary and distinguished).

In any case, he's doing fine. He was extremely vocal tonight about being in the sunroom (he's tired of it and wants to explore), but we took turns petting him. He was very appreciative of his evening can of food, and now seems to have settled down for another nap.

All is well. And we're still crazy. But yeah, I know we did the right thing.

ETA: Kim pointed out that I hadn't exactly mentioned how we named Hoodsie. (I forget this... because we've explained it in person to so many people)...

Hoodsie is named because he comes from the neighborhood (aka 'hood), and the name just kinda stuck. He also is a chunky cat, suggesting that he's eating too many Hoodsie Pops and Hoodsie Cups. (Hood is a local dairy brand here in New England, and "Hoodsie" is the common name for any ice cream cups served with a wooden stick).

Erich and I really need to stop this...

For the folks who are in the know - Hoodsie is now in our sunroom with a temporary cat quarantine setup (bowls, litterbox, bed, etc.)

After finding one of the neighborhood cats hit and dumped on the road this week, we finally caved in. I mean... we've been feeding him for what? Four months now? Plus we've named him.

It really was a matter of time.

Took him to the vet this morning (we love our vet that's open 7 days a week). Feline leukemia and FIV negative. He has fleas, oddly no ear mites, but a myriad of scratch scabs all over him from fights and who knows what else. He needs a serious bath. But otherwise, he's healthy - no respiratory issues. Heart sounds fine. No apparent issues to the touch with his innards. They gave him the first round of rabies and distemper vaccines. Because he's an adult, they think they might be able to give him the boosters sooner than the usual waiting period.

Neutering appointment is Friday.

We'll be keeping him in the sunroom quarantined for probably about a month - mostly to control fleas. (although all of the cats will go on meds for about 6 months once he's released into general house population). The room has been cleared of couches and anything we can't physically wash. We continue to celebrate the fact that we have hardwood floors. :)

*sigh*

We're insane. Completely, utterly insane.

Cat-tastic Entry #2: Mephista

Fizzy
Originally uploaded by measi.

So... cat entry #2 is on Mephista, more commonly known as Fizzy.

Fizzy is our littlest cat-- she's all of 7.25 pounds. She appears black in person and in photos, but when the sun shines on her, she's actually a mink brown tabby (with very narrow stripes from head to the tip of her tail). She has one small white stripe of fur on her belly, white fur protecting her ears and a stray white hair here and there all over her coat. Her eyes are pale yellow. Her whiskers, nose, and paw pads are all black. She's five years old and the princess of the household. She needs to know what's going on at all times, but never really wants to be bothered. She is a human's cat, but not a cat's cat. She does NOT play, thank you very much. And don't dare pick her up-- unless you're wearing a full body suit of kevlar. Those claws will be digging firmly into the nearest body part if you try to remove her from solid ground.

Fizzy came to us in August 2001 as the second cat in the household. I'd started dating Erich only three months before. My first cat, Colley, was forced to be home alone more and more, and it was causing some temperment problems because he was so lonely. We decided to start looking for a cat (preferably one of the many "free to a good home" cats) to keep him company.

In early August, I was reading one of the many internet listservs that I belonged to. A woman and her husband belonged to a group that trapped, spayed and released the stray cats that lived around the Yard at Harvard University. One of the cats they'd caught was pregnant, so they waited for the cat to have kittens-- then posted the kittens on the listserv. If I recall correctly, they were a mix of black and grey cats. Some were polydactyl. We asked for a black poly-toed kitten, but by the time we'd replied, they'd been spoken for. They did have a very small kitten (of undetermined sex), however... were we interested?

We said yes, and planned to meet them later in the week at the T stop at Harvard Square. When we got there, Fizzy was latched in a little ball to the woman's shirt (I'm sure the sounds of the MBTA station were scaring the crap out of her). We exchanged the kitten-- Fizzy immediately clung onto my shirt just below my chin and nuzzled there. We managed to detach her and get her into Colley's carrier, wished the couple well and headed back to my apartment on the train.

My long-time readers will remember Fizzy as the cat that confused both Erich and me when she was a kitten. For the first six months, we thought Fizzy was male-- and so "his" full name was Mephisto. That changed during the appointment to have "him" neutered. So... a quick change of name, and Mephisto became an -a. :)

Fizzy definitely seems relieved that we finally clued into the obvious. She was rather dainty from the start, but we are stupid humans, after all. She got back to us by informing me for well over a year that Erich was HER human. She'd nip at his heels as he went from the bathroom to the bedroom after a shower, as well as perch and prance on all of his clothes for him, vying for his attention.

From the start, Colley was extremely gentle with Fizzy. They played together, and Fizzy would flip over on her back and profess how Huge and Vicious (tm) she was by splaying her claws and opening her mouth to show her tiny pointed teeth. This usually confused Colley, who would just stare at her and blink. It was quite cute. :)

Fizzy also imprinted on Colley- until she was nearly a year old, she would "nurse" on Colley. Granted, I was a bit concerned about my older neutered male cat and his gender issues... but he seemed okay with it. To this day, Fizzy will come and nuzzle on Colley for comfort.

Fizzy has the distinction of being the first cat I ever had who retained all of her claws. My parents, coming from both a generation and a social circle who found it acceptable to do front declaws on cats, had always had them declawed. But Fizzy quickly learned how to behave from Colley (who was declawed by my mother before I got him) and never was destructive. I might add that we've never declawed any of the cats since. Each of them has learned from the one before in some way or another, and we don't have that many problems with scratching.

Anyway... getting back to Fizzy...

She's the most high-strung of all of our cats. She tends to hide out when there's a lot of commotion. She's always been a "quiet" cat. She likes quiet places, and loves to perch. She gets frightened and anxious easily. For example, when we moved into our house last year, the stress of moving caused her to have a bout of temporary alopecia. She lost most of the fur on the backs of her hind legs, plus a huge spot on her chest, mostly due to overgrooming from the stress. Thankfully it grew back after a few months (but we were very concerned).

She doesn't like to play-- her least favorite cat is Gus, who has constantly taunted her since he was a kitten. He often wants to wrestle with her-- and pounces her, causing her to scream and hiss as if she were being killed. It's... unpleasant to listen to. Thankfully she's now found spots where she can relax undisturbed. And we also have Noby and Elly to keep Gus busy.

But aside from her aloofness, she is a loving cat one on one. Last night and this morning, for example, she was extremely cuddly. She perched on my shoulder a lot last night as I played computer games. This morning she weaved around both of our heads in bed, purring as we gave her little back scratches.

She's the fearless cat in our group as far as food goes. Her biggest craving is cheese (and not the "real" cheese, either). I found this out when she was a few months old. She would steal pieces of the Hamburger helper or Mac & Cheese that I'd be having for dinner at the time. She LOVED the powdered cheese... and would eat the pasta, too.

I can't fathom how she stays so small with such a love of junk food. :)

Cat-tastic Entry #1: Nobanion

So for the first of my five - yes five - entries to introduce and discuss the true rulers of our household, I figured I'd start with the comedian of the group:

Nobanion (pronounced No-BAN-yon)

But before I start this, you'll notice a theme with our cats-- they all have long, formal names, and then they have daily nicknames. I'm really not sure why. But they all do.

Anyway... Nobanion, or Noby, as we normally identify him, is now just about 18 months old. He's an orange and white tabby - all of his orange patches are very distinctly striped. The spots over his shoulder blades make a perfect Mickey Mouse ears image. He has light copper eyes that are just a couple shades paler than his orange spots. His whiskers are white, and both his nose and his paws are pale pink. He's the twin of Elly, who I'll talk about in my next entry.

His name is the god of cats (and is represented by a lion) in the Forgotten Realms universe. I loved the name, and with his personality... it fit. Immediately.

Noby (and Elly) arrived in our house in September 2005 by pure dumb luck. On our way home, we turned from the main road by our house (a U.S. highway) onto one of several side streets that connect with our street. It was very dark, so it had to be well after seven p.m. As we passed a streetlight, I caught a glimpse of a cat with two kittens stumbling behind her. I just exclaimed "KITTENS!" and we pulled over.

We could tell immediately that all three cats were feral. The mother was quite young and thin. The kittens were not in good health- with a myriad of issues (the first we noticed was the severe conjunctivitis in their eyes). We managed to get the kittens, but couldn't get the mother as she ran off into the darkness. After asking at a couple houses if they knew who these kittens might belong to (if anyone), we were able to determine that yes, they were in fact strays. And they were in dire need of medical attention.

Three hundred dollars in emergency vet bills later, we'd bought ourselves two kittens. The conjunctivitis was a secondary infection to a serious case of herpes-- the cat version of cold sores. They had fleas. They had worms. They had ear mites. They were definitely scummy little kittens. But the vet, after a second checkup about a week later, said they were just fine-- despite being ill, they were romping around like any other kittens, eating well, and doing just fine.

Noby warmed up to us first- that first night at the vet, we were in the exam room with him sitting on the metal table as the vet went to get some flea medication & run the tests for mites. Noby turned around to groom himself, and we could just SEE the fleas run away from the pressure. But as soon as Erich reached to scratch his ear... he purred. Seven weeks old, around complete strangers, and he purred, leaning into Erich's fingers.

He's never changed. Noby is definitely the extrovert of the bunch- he greets anyone who comes over to our house. He tends to be the performer, investigating things or playing with things in front of guests for their amusement. He pounces fingers on the bannister as we head down the stairs. He attacks the wall for no reason as we come up the stairs. And most recently, he made quite an impression with the roofers last Saturday as they worked on the sunroom. The entire time they were there, he hung out in the bedroom window, fascinated with what they were doing - the leader of the crew remarked how "that orange cat was just so friendly."

He's also incredibly affectionate. He comes up between the two of us as we settle down to sleep and generally flops down on my head for attention. He cuddles as close as he possibly can (normally... on my nose). He has specific ways of being held, though-- if you try to pet him when he's not in the mood, he'll start chewing on your fingers and kneading your hands as if he's trying to nurse.

Per the photo above- he sleeps in weird positions. We've wondered whether or not he's double jointed, although the idea of a cat (which is already made of rubber) being double-jointed just seems odd. Then again, so are those angles in which he rests his front legs as he sleeps every day- chin flat down on the chair, front legs splayed out and bent backwards, back legs tucked under him, and tail stretched out long.

He has the most pathetic little mew of a voice-- it sounds like the cry of a tiny kitten needing attention. It's not the voice of a nearly ten pound male cat. Perhaps we snipped him a tad too early? (but really... it couldn't be helped... we had both a male and female kitten of the same age... we had to be extra careful with our dates).

He's our little monkey cat, and I can't imagine life without him.

Weekend Wakeup Calls

I don't generally get to sleep in on weekend mornings. Most of the time, my brain decides that I have, in fact, forgotten to turn on my alarm clock and am about to miss my train. But in the off chance that the internal alarm clock doesn't go off, we have five other alarm clocks that generally start voicing their opinion by about 8 a.m. or so.

Cats really need love, of course. And as their humans, we should be catering to them on their schedules... dammit.

This morning's edition of Feline Alarm was paid for by Nobanion. Around 8:30, he sauntered up the entire length of my body, making sure to walk over my head. He then bit my nose, licked it, and flopped unceremoniously with his flanks on my face with enough force to make me sneeze. He then relaxed, slid down into the hammock formed by my shoulder and outstretched arm, and began to purr.

For a few moments, I thought that maybe he was just going to cuddle up and go to sleep there, and I could doze for a while. I can't think of many things that I love as much as the slow wakeups on the weekends curled up to one of the cats, just being lazy. It's relaxing, it's peaceful. And it's rare.

So I just stayed there, resisting my morning allergies as they started to kick in. But Noby had other plans for me. He decided that he needed further attention, and began chewing on my outstretched fingers.

So much for cuddling.

I got up, used the bathroom, and came back to bed. Noby hadn't wanted my attention at all.

He just wanted the warm spot that I'd leave so he could take a nap.

(sigh)

Guilty kitty

I didn't do nothin'
Originally uploaded by measi.

Cats are retarded.

Lovable, cuddly, cute as hell... but completely retarded. And really, really weird.

Today's example: Noby

Around 3 a.m. this morning, I wake up to the sound of Erich muttering as he climbs back into bed about a stupid cat. I ask what's going on, and I get the most random answer:

"Noby stole the toilet paper."

My brain doesn't really process this comment - whether a lack of comprehension or dismissal as one of my many disjointed dreams, I can't say. I fall back asleep, waking up again as Erich shuts the bedroom door because our daily episode of the Noby and Elly Mutual Pouncing Show began at the ungodly hour of 4:30 this morning.

The alarm goes off, and I trundle to the bathroom in that barely awake stupor, where I find... no toilet paper. And then I get the vague memory of being TOLD about this. I go back to the bedroom and ask Erich.

"I don't know where he put it. There's more under the sink," he mumbles.

Later, I find out that as Erich was using the bathroom in the middle of the night, Noby followed him into the room. Not surprising-- we usually have one feline attendant in the bathroom with us, whether we want it or not. As Erich was using the toilet, Noby apparently reached down into the open tube of toilet paper (that neither of us had bothered to put on the roller yet) yoinked it, and ran.

So somewhere in our house is a roll of toilet paper-- probably stashed either under the bed or under the couch. Undoubtedly, it will be a shredded toy by the time we get home tonight.

Guess what our first chore of the night will be?

Happy Tuesday...

An Update: not braces, but dentures

Colley is now home, somewhat groggy, and puttering around. The vet recommended isolating him to watch his food and water intake-- but so far, he really hasn't eaten much, and hasn't touched the water. He seems a bit too out of it. We're keeping an eye out, but it seems like he mostly just wants to wander around and do his normal house rounds-- it's apparently a Norwegian Forest Cat trait (and one that Colley definitely does).

He did have to have one tooth extracted-- his top right canine. Apparently it was loose--essentially no longer secure in the root bed. So one way or another, it was going to come out. So he's now officially a snaggletooth. However, the interesting thing is that aside from the little incisors in the front that he's lost (out of the twelve he should have, he's lost eight), he also had lost both of the top teeth on the outside of each canine already.

My cat doesn't need braces-- he's heading for dentures.

Once I heard the news this afternoon, I was feeling horribly guilty. I kept telling myself I was a bad mother-- how could I let my cat get to the point that he had to have teeth extracted? But both Erich and the vet assistant told me I had no concerns. And THEN... a series of phone calls came in-- and the vet assistant proved my point.

One caller had a kitten-- treated at another vet-- that apparently was constipated. The owner wondered if it should be put down (!!!).

Another cat owner called because there was a tick who'd lodged onto the cat, and the owner wasn't sure what to do (um-- take the tick off. If the head doesn't come with it, then take it to the vet!)

Another caller had a dog which had an antique bow AND arrow lodged in its mouth, and the owner wondered if he'd have to get stitches-- and did it need to see a vet.

I shit you not.

I feel sad for my oldest furball, but I realize that I'd be a bad mother if I'd just let his teeth rot and not do a damn thing. :( I'm feeling like Cat Mother of the Year after those calls.

The cat needs braces

After a couple years of putting it off, entirely due to expenses, Erich and I squished Colley into the carrier this morning and carted him off to the vet. In his unique fashion, he told us off the entire way. You see, Colley always has this expression on his face that translates to "I didn't do it... don't kill me please..." Today, he accusingly was yowling for the five minutes it takes to drive into Warwick to the vet. He was convinced-- we're going to kill him.

And PETA nuts... this isn't in the literal sense... we're talking jovial here. I'm not killing cats, nor do I want to kill cats. Trust me-- I'm what you call a Crazy Cat Lady In Training-- we have five. We love all five. We spoil all five. I am well aware that Colley's a wuv (spelled exactly that way). It's HIM that seems to think I'm going to kill him.

Nope-- Colley's at the vet, getting his teeth cleaned. And if you thought it was a production to get human teeth cleaned at the dentist... heh, I've got news for you. $350+ news for you. They put the cat under general anesthesia-- which makes perfect sense, of course. But that means some extra bucks. And even more, if Colley winds up getting a tooth pulled (entirely possible, the poor guy). But hopefully this will decrease the not-caused-by-fish Fish Breath (ick), and give him a new lease on life. He's dealt with ginvitivis for a while now, plus he's lost half of the little milk teeth in the front between his canines. The ones that are left are extremely crooked. I'm a bad mother-- I should have done this a while ago. :(

My cat needs braces. And a couple bridges. Do they make them for teeth that small? And why am I getting the strange image of my cat having to wear the backward over-the head muzzle-style headgear that I had for my braces?

Heh.

Anyway, the preparations for today's plans began at midnight, when all food and water was pulled away to make sure he would be okay when put under. Bear in mind, pulling away the food from Colley also means that we had a total of FIVE irritated cats this morning. Around the 3 or 4 a.m. hour, the first round of antics began. As soon as the alarm went off after seven, we had a cat swarm on the bed.

I know he's going to be fine, but I hope he doesn't hate me for too long tonight. :(

Fizzy does realize that he's getting too big to curl up on my shoulder, right?

*neck gets crinked into funky position by cat rubbing against head*

Guess not.