Warning: This post is rambling and possibly boring. Read at your own risk.Thanks for all your lovely inquiries about my rather poor health of late. I love my motherfuckers!
The Doc put me back on an inhaler for asthma after I told her my lung capacity was for shit (That's how I actually put it--The Doc is young and cool, and I have been with her for a long fucking time, because she actually listens and gives a shit, and that's the kind of doctor my Cousin Sheila will be, too. Did I mention how proud of Cousin Sheila we all are? Well, we are. She may cure cancer even.). The Doc said the stress of the past year, with moving and the divorce, probably lowered my immunity and gave the damn asthma a chance to come back and take hold. I haven't been bad enough to use an inhaler for several years now. Did I mention how much I hate the Yankee North? My blood line makes me ill-equipped for such weather. I can't even breathe properly in the cold.
Actually, the first thing I think of when it dumps snow and gets cold, is those poor rebel soldiers in the cold Virginia weather during the Civil War. Those poor souls! And yes, like Shelby Foote, I am always more bothered by the sufferings of Southerners. When there is a disaster, the names of the southern dead listed, always fill me with the most sorrow. And further, I HATE AND DESPISE General Sherman of Ohio with bilious vitriol, but that's another story for another day. The only good thing that sonofabitch ever did was not destroying Savannah. Fucker.
[But I ramble. Back to the doctor visit. I warned you motherfuckers, so don't blame me.]
I also got a shot in the butt. I haven't had one of those since I was a kid, but there's a lot more caboose back there now, and I barely even felt it. My brother and I used to bawl and carry on at the very thought of the doctor's office and a shot. We were girly men, what can my ass say? [I'm sure that Cousin Sheila won't hurt small children with shots. She will be the BEST, most gentle shot giver, EVER. We're VERY PROUD of her.]
Tonight, my lucky ass gets to cat-wrangle TWO kittens into ONE small carrier to get their asses to the vet for kitten shots. In theory, Bella Puppini (a.k.a. The Bloody Fires of Hell) is supposed to sort of mentor Raj, the Siamese/Himalayan Schlub. Basically, I have about five minutes to capture them both and shove their frightened asses in a container meant for one grown cat in order to make the appointment on time. Fun! If I am lucky, I will still have all 10 fingers by nightfall.
Wish me luck!
11 comments:
Honestly, I think my great and neurotic fear of all things medical comes from those damn penicillin shots we got in the butt EVERY TIME WE WENT TO THE DOCTOR AS A CHILD! Got the flu? Pull down your pants. Got a cold? Pull down your pants. Got a broken arm? Pull down your pants.
And has anyone ever connected the words penis and penicillian? Huh? HUH?!
Sorry. Glad you're feeling better, love. Don't mind me. I'm just a little crazy today.
Ms. Moon,
I remember those damn shots.
And I love you!
Sorry about your asthma and shot in the ass, glad you're mending. I hate being sick, it brings out the worst in me.
Do you think you'll always live where you are? We have no roots here and are tired of freezing our asses off too, but aren't sure how far south or west to go. I always wonder how people end up where they are and where they'd be if they could. I have a lot of issues - no hurricane, drought, tsunami, or fault zones, no active or old but viable volcanic bulges, no lake effect snows, no heat waves over 100 degrees, lots of trees and wildlife but no freaking alligators, poisonous spiders or snakes and preferably no bear, mountain lion or other freaking carnivore that might think I'm lunch. Kind of limiting, eh?
Speaking of carnivores, I have a effing feral kitty in my garage - the cutiest tiniest black longhair lion maned pshycho slasher kitty I've ever met. A foot of snow frostbite weather plus the local foxes and coyotes and I'm guessing it's living under the workbench for a few months. I'm so sad, thought because it wants to be petted, or remembers being loved, but it's been scared and scrapping so long it's lost all trust or crazy. So it can't go to a shelter or foster home, but needs to be TNR, I just learned about this program, trap, neuter, release.
My best friend has fostered 5 or 6 hundred kitties, and she's a little scared of how it pops up slashing at random moments. She taught me to look at pupil dilation and facial expression to read them, who knew? My dog had it 30 feet up a tree, and my daughter and I talked it down, and it let her carry it, but that was the end of making nice. At least it's warm now and eating well. If it runs away it's stupid, and I wish it would make friends with me, but my friend said probably never. Hopeless. Sniff. Sniff.
Thanks for letting me talk kitties with you, hope you have all your fingers still.
Mel,
Personally, and I have known a lot of cats, I don't believe there is any cat so wild they can't be reformed with a lot of patience, time, and love. It does take a lot of time and effort. The feral cats many times will never become used to being held, but they can adapt to people with a lot of effort on behalf of the human. Their trust is hard-earned for good reason. One of my kittens was a feral (possibly two of them). She is very loving, but I understand her brother remained much wilder. She still is a bit uncomfortable when I pick her up and love her and kiss on her. If she comes to me and gets in my lap first, then it's all fine.
Wish I lived near you. I would work on the kitty with you. Siamese and black cats are very special to me. They are my favorites.
You are very sweet to care for and feed the little thing. Good luck with her or him. I hope you don't give up.
Love, SB.
I am glad that you are feeling better, SB.
Fat Bastard Cat is/was feral. I have worked long and hard with that fucker and have the scars to prove it. But I love his mean ass.
We have a colony here at the apartment complex and are working with a TNR program called Sterile Feral. I am glad that this is working out for us, as I feel so bad for their cold little asses.
Dish,
You know I love you. You are a sweetheart.
Thank you for helping the cats. I consider all cats my kin. I prefer them to most humans.
Thanks, SB, it's probably good you don't live nearby, we'd live in my garage drinking wine! I'm going to keep trying, I want to pet it so badly, I had one that was my baby that looked just like this in college. I will post a blog photo for your viewing pleasure, since you love the black kitties.
I am not getting shit done today but reading and chatting on the blogs. I'm writing freaking novels over in Ms. Moons comments.
Mel,
Ms. Moon has that affect on people. She gives good blog.
I will definitely be over to see the photo. Don't give up.
Love, SB.
Your seven include two kittens? And they were feral?
My 20-year-old black cat Harry was a street-cat in Miami when he came to me 19 years ago. I fed him for 30 days, inching closer every day, before he let me pet him. He didn't learn to like being held until he relaxed into almost-dotage.
I love cats, unreasonably. But I can't support the sterilize and release programs because cats are the biggest cause of death of birds (after habitat reduction) and many species of birds are already diminishing as we pave over and pollute the land.
Kathleen,
My 7 include 3 kittens. One was definitely feral. One was found on the highway, so I'm thinking it's a good possibility she was a feral cat, but she was really tiny when rescued, so not too wild. She still doesn't like the sound of cars though. I tried to take her out front of the house, and she scratched the shit out of me. I live near a busy road.
I love cats unreasonably also, but of course I prefer they all be adopted and given loving homes. In a perfect world. I'm not sure how I feel about catch and release.
I'm glad you're on your way to feeling better!
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