This morning I actually managed to be up, washed dressed and out of the house at seven thirty five. Just in case you misunderstood that, here it is again numerically... 07:35. Who knew the sun was out at that ungodly hour? I sure had forgotten what it was like to see the sun at such a low angle and to know somewhere deep inside me it was rising and not setting.
I know, you are asking your self "Self, what the hell was he doing up so early?" Well let me tell you, it was take your cat to the vet day. That poor cat of mine didn't know what hit her. I was up at seven, showered and dressed by seven thirty when I propositioned the cat carrier with door open and fetched her majesty. Our fuzz ball is very tiny, always has been and probably always will be. So it was easy to flip her onto her back and slide her into the carrier. No fuss, no muss.
On the way to the vet's place, Puddie tat (what else does one call a black and white cat?) was not a very happy camper. It's a good thing I don't speak cat, I have the distinct feeling my little fuzz ball was using some very colorful cat language. Her majesty is strictly an indoor cat. I had the unmitigated gall to bring her outside into the sunny and warm elements, in a cage no less.
|Best explanation of the relationship between cats and people|
Now the waiting game is on. Waiting for the updates and when we can go get her to bring her home. On the plus side Puddie Tat isn't like some of the others we have had. She at least gets over her cat mad quickly which means we will only have a couple of days where she is ugly. People who don't have cats really don't understand how true the saying "Dogs have masters, cats have staff" is.
Well that's about all I have to squawk about from up here North of Disorder.