And She Was...

I should be packing right now, but Cayne has literally fallen asleep on the floor, at the top of the stairs. He's blocking the door to the bedroom that I need to get into to get to some of the things I need to pack, and I suspect that too much packing around him will wake him...and I know how much he needs this sleep.

I think between Cayne and the two kittens sitting next to me giving off sleep-vibes, it may become difficult to stay awake.

Lately, I've been waking up with a toy mouse next to my bed. Every morning. It's a toy that Beta isn't fond of, though he's the one more inclined towards playing with the toy mice in the house. I think it's been Oblivion, bringing the toy in, and leaving it by my bed. Perhaps she knows she's dying, and wants to be sure that I'm taken care of, so she brings me mice. I'm a very bad kitten. She knows that.


Oh, and I've realized that I ought to make some adjustments to my friends list, which one of these days I'll get around to.

We're waiting for the vet to call Cayne back with news about the cat. I have a terrified feeling in the pit of my stomach.

We've talked about what our options our, what our best decision might be, and how best to take care of Beta cat, who has never been an only cat and would likely be very unhappy that way, if we do have to put her down. Neither of us wants to make that decision, but we know that the cost of surgery for her will probably be way beyond what we can afford, first of all, and that there's a good chance that if this tumor is breast cancer, that it's not the only tumor and that she's not a good surgical candidate. I promised the cat when I took her in that I'd take the best care of her that I could, and that means making hard choices about what's best for her.

Cayne is in Florida, and I'm looking forward to his return. I'm sort of wondering what to do with myself next weekend when he's in Ottawa having a bachelor party.

My knee is less painful than it was before. I'm starting to get worried about the cyst-like thing on my breast. It's been there for weeks and weeks and weeks, it's not painful. It did drain white fluid at one point (or I'd probably be a lot more worried about a red lump) and it's gotten smaller but it hasn't gone away. I'll schedule my annual with the gyn soon, and let her look at it.

Oblivion got outside today. It's definitely Spring, and therefore time to find her a good window with a solid screen in it, so I can at least let her get some fresh air. It would be nice if I could let her outside, even supervised in the back yard, but it's just not safe.

My sister borrowed my car-I don't like loaning it to her, but my mother would have thrown a fit and told me that I was being unreasonable if I'd said no. I don't like the way my sister drives, plus I know she'll smoke in the car even though I asked her not to. And that bothers me a lot. So does the fact that she'll be 29 this year, and still feels the need to hide the fact that she smokes from our father. If you're grown up enough to make a choice to do that, then you should be grown up enough to admit it. I really think it's stupid. (My Dad was a smoker for many years-he quit in 1988 and hasn't smoked since.)

I shouldn't be up at three AM. I had more things rattling around in my head but I paused for bill paying, and now I forget what it is.

zedrikcayne has a remote control car. He's running it around the living room right now, and Beta can't figure out if he wants to chase it or be afraid of it. He's fascinated by watching it roll around the room, but if it gets too close to him he starts to back away. I suspect, knowing Beta that if it weren't quite as noisy he'd be all over it. (The car has fancy sound effects.) Beta keeps hiding under the table and then ducking out and checking out the car. He's figured out that the car can't go up the stairs after him, so he's sitting on the stairs watching the car.

In other cat news, my parents have adopted another cat. This brings the total to nine indoor/outdoor and the strays they care for. (Scardey Cat, Humphrey, Mugs, Spot, Quagmire, Larry, Moe, Curly and Harley in the house.) Dad says they may get another and call it Davidson, but I suspect that would be yet another accidental adoption, like many of the others have been, I don't think Mom and Dad are inclined to go looking. The story behind Harley is that they had been given a very nice cat tree by someone. The landlord of the person who gave them the tree decided that he wanted a cat, and adopted Harley. Then the landlord decided that he wanted an outdoor only cat. Well, it's awfully cold where Mom and Dad are tonight...so somehow, this translates to Harley moving in with Mom and Dad.

You may say my parents are nuts for the cat thing. And it's a bit odd, but I actually respect them a lot for what they do. The vet helps out and gives them the kennel rate, which is also nice. They work hard to make sure abandoned and stray animals are well cared for, and they give a loving home to them. And I think that counts for a lot in the long run. They've taken in loads of ferral cats, and strays, they've made sure they have good homes. They work with feeding stray cats at Mom's job, and making sure they're spayed/neutered, or rehabbed and adopted. I can think of nine or ten strays off the top of my head who they've taken in themselves. Mom and Dad really care for animals, and I love that...and I think it's rubbed off.

Is there anyone local who can look in on my cats? We're leaving them here and picking them up on Tuesday. This wouldn't be a problem except that they're exterminating in my building on Monday, and the cats have to be confined to the bedroom for the day. I'd rather not leave them locked in the bedroom from Saturday until we get here on Monday night.

(I'd need you to stop by on Sunday at some point or early on Monday, check their food and water, change their water, give them some love and treats and then lock them in the bedroom for the day.)