It's too difficult to fit all my cats in the little hand-held pet carrier, so I've been taking my six cats to the vet's office in groups of two. The males were fixed last month, and today I dropped off the two females to get spayed.
The receptionist was kind enough to call and leave a message where I work after their surgeries:“The surgeries went well, your cats are fine, and you can pick them up Friday afternoon because of the declawing.”
Huh? De-claw-ing? DECLAWING?! That's like going in for a hangnail and coming out with no legs!
The vet came on the line and apologized profusely for the misunderstanding - he'd performed several declawings, but NOT on my felines, who will still be able to climb the kitty condo and tear up my carpet. It would still be in his best interest to give them extra kitty drugs tonight, though.
November 16, 2005 flashback moment
When all four kittens DID fit in the same carrier. With room to spare.
My boy's got wheels!
The car: a 1987 Chevrolet Camaro. It has 86,000 miles, new tires, 6 cylinders and no air-conditioning, which is supposedly a plus because the car will ride lighter and faster. I imagine WE will be riding lighter, at the very least, since it's been in the high 90's all month.
The cost: $2,400. Patrick paid half from his hard-earned dish-washing stashed cash, his father paid the other. I'm actually proud of the two for setting aside their pigheadedness long enough to agree on a car.
Bonus Tom Sawyer moment: since we weren't able to pick up the car until 6 p.m., Ed demonstrated proper waxing technique ON MY CAR.
On my half-sister's fifth birthday, she walked into her mother's bedroom and asked if she knew what day it was. Her mother, no doubt recalling the birth of the ten-pound butterball, answered in the affirmative. My sister gleefully informed her, "it's the year of five!"
Today starts the year of twenty-four.