It seems that Charlie has seen that Princess is injured and has taken this opportunity to warm up to us, lest she perish and we decide he’s out too.
The other night he jumped up into bed with Pip and I when we got in bed looking at us like “What? I always do this.” And he so does not. Occasionally if we’ve been on a long trip he’ll sleep in our bed the first night we’re back, but that’s it. The problem is that as soon as the lights go out he starts inching up closer to our heads. It starts with “Hey there. I’m just at your feet. No need to kick me off” – then – “What! Shoulders look like feet! I had no idea your face was close, but you know, now that I’m here how about we sleep. I’m tired. And I don’t have holes in my backside.”
Sidenote: I said the word butt the other night while getting the kids ready for bed. I don’t remember the context but it almost certainly had something to do with Princess. DQ says to me, “Mom, why does everyone else say bottom but you say butt?” (I know. I’m such a potty mouth.) I asked her if my using the word bottom would make her more comfortable. She said yes. So I use the word bottom around her. And pretty much only her. I’m rebellious like that.
Almost 2 years ago I posted about the cats we acquired through an attempt to relieve the guilt we felt over things not working out with Elsie the greyhound. Mmmm, yes. We should have just let that wave of guilt crash onto the shores of our souls and return to the ocean of feelings the way that nature intended. Because now we have them and 2 of the 4 people inhabiting this house don’t really like them so much. We have figured out (sadly, through trial and error) that we just are not pet people. Be that as it may, our children ARE. Or they love the one’s we have. Whatever it is, we are stuck with these two furry (VERY FURRY!) creatures until the end of their life.
They (Princess and Charlie) do not make it easy for us to love them. Everyone says they’re wonderful, but I think that’s because they’re kind of like Eddie Haskell from “Leave it to Beaver”. They’re great around other people. They prance around going, “Oooo look at me! How nice and cute am I? Aren’t they evil to talk about me like that? Wait…what’s that smell? Oh right. I wrecked the litter box and it smells like the coffins of a thousand zombies in the house now. Where were we? Oh yeah…look at how cute I am!”
A few months ago Charlie ripped open his belly and required surgery to clean it out and cut off the dead flesh. Nice no? We don’t know how this happened but we assume it is the direct result of having an extra few pounds of skin from his overweight days catching on something (a nail? a fencepost?) and his decision to keep walking. He was in a cone for a month.
This weekend we noticed drips of blood around the food bowl and upon further investigation found that Princess had ripped herself 3 new (thinking of a nice word…thinking…thinking…not happening) poop holes. After some research we found that it is probably a ruptured anal sack. I’d post a picture of what that is, but since I read most of the blogs I follow while eating breakfast, I will spare you the image. You’re welcome. Advice from vets online (I admit said “vet” could be the kid next door) said to put some Neosporin on it and put a cone on the cat. Having thrown out the cone from Charlie’s incident, we went to Petco and found a variety of cones. FOR UPWARDS OF $30!! You have got to be kidding me. But she needed a cone, so what does one do when faced with this predicament. You’re probably thinking “Go to the vet”, but no! I made one. Out of some leftover oilcloth and some duct tape. And it was free. We are in “monitor and see” mode around here. Just be glad you aren’t the one doing the monitoring. It is really unpleasant.
Maybe it’s that my mind is so cluttered, I don’t know. I have lots to blog about. I just can’t seem to muster up the energy to do it. Pip will read this and shake his head and say, “That is not what the term “mojo” means.” and that’s fine. I like the way it sounds. So there.
Let me just show you what we’ve had for the past week (and for the forseeable future).
Meet Charlie and Princess. Charlie is the grey one and Princess is the (not sure if this is what you call her) Calico. They are pretty fun and they seem to fit us much better. Charlie we re-named, and we were going to re-name Princess, Joy, but everyone kept calling her Princess because it fits her much better. More stories about them later. I’m off to make TM’s lunch and then work.