Yesterday, I compared my life to a game of “Oregon Trail”. (I know, given my obsession, this probably isn’t the first time, but…so?)
You know how it is, just when things are looking up and conditions have improved enough that you can maneuver the wagon further along the trail, someone dies of dystentery. OR Spliff’s cat gets bitten by one of the bastard strays that live outside. And one side of her face swells up so that it looks like she is sucking on golf ball.
That was Saturday. We woke up and brought our tea out to the balcony before heading off down the road to sit on the beach.
“Your cat looks weird.”
“I know! What’s WRONG with her?”
Bridget stared at us blankly and walked slowly back into the house. By the time we’d finished watching the Hot Old Guy and the Fisherman at the beach, her face had grown to epic proportions. And an Emergency vet visit was in order. They kept her there for a few hours and when Spliff brought her back, she had just come out of anesthesia, was growling, and had a straw through her cheek. (We are still unclear on the purpose of the straw.) It wasn’t until Jess left at 3am, that she was coherent enough that we could attempt to apply…(drumroll, please)…the cone-shaped collar.
For those of you who have not met Bridget, she is the ruler of her own domain. She does not like to be touched unless it is her idea. She does not cuddle except when she is sleeping on Spliff’s face. She is…the boss. So, you can imagine that at 3 in the morning, after two bottles of wine and countless brownies, we had a hard time trying to get a collar on her without hitting the…face straw. So, after an hour, we gave up and called the pet ER. They said that they would do it for us if we brought her in, but we didn’t see much point seeing as she wasn’t really messing with her wound anyway. So, Spliff stayed up with her all night, making sure that she didn’t try and perform kitty surgery on herself. And I…well…I didn’t sleep either.
She got the face straw out yesterday and seems to be getting back to normal. Aside from the hole in the shaved side of her face. But…in due time…so…Hooray for stray cats in our yard. If Ernge ever had any dreams of returning to the wild, he is going to be VERY disappointed. Indeed.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: "Ebin" - Sublime