This is how my Monday went:
1. I didn’t sleep worth a shit Sunday night, got maybe two hours, and when Fred woke me up to say goodbye, we talked long enough that I woke up completely and couldn’t get back to sleep.
2. On Saturday, we noticed that Miz Poo had a swelling near the base of her tail. We looked at it and Fred Googled around and we decided it was likely an abscess. We decided it wasn’t an occasion for the emergency vet (unlike a few years ago when I think we took Spot to the emergency vet and blew a few hundred dollars on the visit because he looked “funny.”) and checked on her during the day. Saturday night Fred looked over in the padded pyramid near the couch where Miz Poo was hanging out (which in itself is weird, because she’s usually on the couch with me or on the couch with Fred, she’s an equal opportunity lovah.) and she was licking at the swollen area. When he got down to check on her, he found that it had burst, and poor Miz Poo was trying to lick up the flood of bloody puss and had the most disgusted look on her face.
You weren’t eating, were you?
We did our best to clean her up, dabbed off the puss, and put antibiotic ointment on the area and checked on it again Sunday. Yesterday I took her to the vet, figuring that they’d have to clean out the area (it looked pretty nasty, but not infected) and might have to knock her out to do so. The vet looked at the area and said that he thought he saw some tumor tissue, that they needed to knock her out, remove the tissue around the area, and try to close it back up. I left her there so they could do it. Apparently they doped her up to see if they could clean the area before operating, and she vomited, so they had to wait a while to operate. Yesterday evening the vet talked to Fred and told him it turned out to be an anal gland adenoma. That they usually come back and turn into a chronic condition, but sometimes they never reoccur. Fred asked him if this was a death sentence, and the vet said that ultimately (if it turns into a chronic condition) it would probably be what kills her, but not to break out the ash and sackcloth just yet.
She stayed overnight at the vet and hopefully I’ll be able to pick her up after I drop the kittens off at the vet to be spayed and neutered.
3. I spent three hours painting the outside of the big coop (we’re going with dark green this time around). Today my leg aches like a motherfucker; I guess I stand funny when I’m using a paint roller.
I got green paint on the palm of my right hand, and I scrubbed and scrubbed at it and it mostly came off, but my hand is so dry that I can’t quite get all the paint off, so my right palm is tinged slightly green. I look like I’m about to start turning into the Hulk.
Don’t make me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.
4. I’m a fucking idiot and put my iPod in my bra while I was painting (what? I don’t usually wear pants with pockets, that’s where I usually store the damn thing when I’m doing stuff.) and sweated all over it. It stopped working completely at first, and now it’ll light up and I can synch it, but the menu buttons won’t work at all, so it’s pretty much useless.
If the week knows what’s good for it, things will be downhill for the next few days!
I have to box up the kittens and take them to be spayed and neutered. I don’t know how that’s going to go – the boys are okay with being picked up (Delmar actually seems to like it) but the girls hate it, especially Claudette, who’s a tiny little scrapper when you pick her up. I put two carriers in their room Sunday and they’ve been checking them out and jumping in and out of them and sniffing them all over, so they’re not scared of carriers.
I’m sure this experience will change that!
More pictures up over at L&H.
Stinkerbelle in the sun. Pretty little thing, isn’t she?
Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: (”GOD. No WONDER you’re so fat, if you eat stuff like that ALL THE TIME! All you have to do is stop eating crap like that, and exercise! I should know! I’m an anonymous asshole you’ve never heard of before, so listen to me!”)
2004: No entry.
2003: I’m going to DIE. Someday, I’m going to die. I’m going to die, you’re going to die, Fred will die, the spud will die. We’re going to DIE. All of us.
2002: I’m an AMERICAN, after all. I should never, for one second feel the slightest bit of discomfort.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
1999: As far as I’m concerned, to each his own.