Her Ladyship

Notes from the gutter.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Feline fine

Haw haw.  I took the cat and the dog to the vet on Thursday (lost a coin toss with the Texan, who stayed home with the baby) so that they could both have bloodwork done and the cat could get some shots.  Shrapnel is going to be 22 years old in September and I am knocking every piece of wood as I type that. He impressed the hell out of the vet and vet tech, as he was the second oldest cat either of them had seen and all things considering, is in pretty good shape. He also apparently didn't embed any claws in their arms this time, something he's done in the past. (No exaggeration: the vet in San Antonio would get out her cow-birthing gloves to handle him, as they would mean her arm would be ensconced in rubber and thus protected from him all the way up to the shoulder.) (Although this vet did take one look at his claws and offer us an on-the-house claw-trimming.  I have to admit I can't remember the last time I clipped them.) (I HAVE A BABY.) (Best excuse for not doing things ever!)

Anyways.  Che of course charmed the entire office and in fact our departure was delayed because the vet techs were playing with him. This was a good thing because he's shedding his undercoat, which means that there was fur everywhere in the examination room. I also got a curt email from Zipcar warning me that I'd left the car "dirty," which I'm assuming means that the person after me is allergic to dogs and very particular about the car's interior, since I used a seat cover but that can only contain so much, you know? (BTW: I have this whole theory about the other person in our neighborhood who rents Zipcars. We're kind of out on the hinterlands for their customer base and thus I am pretty sure I know who it is. We are in a running battle about how close the seat needs to be to the steering wheel and where to leave the radio tuned.)

Anyways anyways. Today it's just me and La Principessa. The Texan is celebrating Father's Day by getting out of Dodge for a while. He went off for a long scooter ride, muttering something about West Virginia. Presumably he's coming back. He deserves a nice break, as he gave me one last night.  There was a work event with alcohol, and he agreed to stay home with the baby so I could partake in adult beverages as much as I wanted.  It was great! I came home, decided to continue the party there, poured myself a drink...and promptly fell asleep on the living room couch. And the Texan even got up early on Father's Day to take care of La Principessa's breakfast so I could sleep it off in. Thanks, Texan. Happy Father's Day! 


  • At 8:36 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Check check


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