28 February, 2007
According to The Great Firewall of China, my site is not blocked in China.
25 February, 2007
Thursday night was Simon's annual check-up. Preparation for a visit to the V-E-T begins early in our home. I made the appointment last Sunday. Monday, under the pretense of rearranging the front closet, I removed the kitty carrier and set it "out of my way" in a corner of the room. When I put things back in the closet, I "forgot" to shove the carrier back in. This gives both cats time to freak out at its appearance, then get used to it being out. Wednesday evening, while the furkids were eating, I casually undid the latches for the top door of the carrier. Thursday, when I gave them part of their supper about an hour before we were set to leave, I quietly opened the top door. About five minutes before it was time to go, I closed the door to the bedroom, since the one place they can hide where I cannot reach them is under the bed. This came in handy because Simon put up a good fight while I tried to stuff him into the carrier, which took several minutes and only a bit of bloodshed on my part.
He passed his exam with flying colours, weighing in at a perfect 11 lbs., 6 oz (down 6 oz. from last fall when he got his S-H-O-T-S). The vet and I agree that this is a really good weight for him. We can feel his ribs without having to grope too much and he's plenty active.
All that said, however, Simon was clearly not a happy boy. He clung to me, alternately trying to slither up inside my shirt or crawl into my chest cavity. He's generally a pretty snuggly boy, but when we're at the V-E-T, he's All Snugglebunny, All The Time. I was very proud of him, though. He was very well behaved and didn't bite or struggle...not even when the tech took his temperature (they always used to take it in his ear, but, uh, not so much in the ear this time).
We met the new vet, Dr. Grant, this time (I like the fact that Simon and Billie are rotated through the vets at the office so all of them are familiar with them). Well, she was new to me, anyway. She said that she was reading Simon's chart before she came into the exam room and saw that she had given him his FIP titer a few years ago, when she was a tech. So, evidently, they have a past.
And oh yikes. The FIP titer...It reminded me of how we lost our sweet Chloe to that insidious disease. And that it is a time bomb, lurking and ticking away in Simon's system. For the most part, I have been able to put it out of my mind after his second birthday and I hope that I don't stress about it as he gets older. Mostly, I hope that they make some strides in treating FIP so that it isn't the automatic death sentence that it was for Chloe.
For now I find joy in every healthy day I have with Simon and Billie, who are constantly reminding me to just stay IN THE MOMENT with them. The past is what it is. The future is what it is. But right now, this moment is the only moment we have control over. And I have two wonderful models for making the most of Now.
18 February, 2007
This is a picture of a Happy Cat!
This springy-stringy toy that the furkids got from Uncles G & T has become Simon's favourite toy. Mostly because it's an interactive toy, which means he gets his "Mom and Me" time. I like it because I can toss the feathery end over his head and then yank it back just as he reaches for it (yes, of course I let him "win" after a few tries...I'm not THAT sadistic!). It's also hilarious to watch him wrestle with it, get tangled in it and then launch into full-on Cat Crazies where he leaps up and runs around the apartment several times before stalking the feathered end again.
11 February, 2007
As I type this, we're having a few rare quiet moments here on Planet Vicster. Simon's had his "afternoon tea" and is now sufficiently over the trauma of my running the vacuum cleaner that he can lie in the postage stamp-sized box that he loves (and will not let me get rid of).
He may be content to hang out in (more like hang out OF) the box until his supper time, or the peace will end in the next ten seconds when he gets a sudden attack of the Cat Crazies. It means I have to type fast so I can get thoughts down or photos processed and uploaded before I have a 12-pound moggie tap dancing on my keyboard(s).
Though there are days when I wish he'd pick a more convenient time for his fits of Temporary Insanity, I have to confess that every time his manic energy explodes he manages to make me laugh at some new whacky thing he's come up with. And that makes fixing typos and sending follow-up emails to people apologizing for accidentally prematurely sending an incomplete email (full of typos, naturally) completely worth it.
07 February, 2007
I think I may have said this before, but I never was able to form an image of my mother as a Senior Citizen, even while she was still alive. Maybe it had to do with the vision I had of never giving her a grand child and, therefore, could not picture her as "grandma", I don't know. But today would have been her sixty-fifth birthday and it's something I cannot quite wrap my brain around.
My relationship with her memory has shifted again. This time it's for the better. Much of the anger I felt toward her and toward our relationship has dissipated. I really don't think I've let it go so much as it just doesn't occupy as prominent a place in my soul, anymore. And wherever she is, I think that she is no longer as tortured as she was before. At least, when we visit in my dreams, our encounters are no longer as adversarial as they used to be (she used to try to kill me when I saw her in my dreams). At least I hope she is no longer suffering like she did in this world.
I had no idea she shares a birthday with Eddie Izzard. That is so cool!
Mom, I don't know if today still has significance for you where you are, but I hope it was a great day.
04 February, 2007