My cat is fine; she freaked the fuck out at the vet's office and had to be sedated, but her surgery went well and she got to come home later that afternoon (as promised). She lost 24 of her 30 teeth, and so far the only consequence is that her tongue sticks out when she's asleep. She still eats enough food for nine much larger cats, and bites me in the middle of the night with her three remaining canines so she can sleep in the mathematical center of my pillow. She only had the resorptive lesions, also. No sign of stomatitis, which sounds less scary but can potentially be a much bigger deal.
They sent my aunt home to die. Her cancer is inoperable. The oncologists tried to perform a surgery that would've allowed them to start chemotherapy, but the surgery failed and there were complications. When she woke up after the second surgery attempt she formally refused further treatment, and is now at home with her husband and grandkids and various shifts of hospice nurses. My aunt herself was a nurse for nearly 40 years, and she knows what time it is. It's a dismal and heart-breaking situation comprehensively, but she's an 83-year-old woman and OG feminist who spent her life doing more or less whatever she wanted. There are worse things than dying at the end of a performance like that, I suppose. She doesn't really remember who I am anymore, and I suspect that talking on the phone with a random weeping woman distresses her (& she always believed that female hysteria in any form was letting down the side, anyway). I'm not going to tax her with my grief anymore. I just hope she'll be allowed to pass away in her sleep, like a good soldier or a bad cowboy.
There's nothing to be done about it one way or the other (except cry, of course).
Thank you in advance for the kind words I'm sure you'd say to me if I'd turned the comments on, but I'm still short a computer and wouldn't be able to respond to you until the weekend.
My aunt would wish me neither to be idle nor to despair in the moment or aftermath of her timely demise, so once I get my digital shit together I'll go back to complaining about books and you can go back to indulgently pretending you care.
Until then, then.
Showing posts with label cats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cats. Show all posts
angels & insects
Oh man, I really miss Doghouse Riley. He was my favorite. I catch myself clicking over to his blog every time A Thing happens, and then horrors, horrors. Like, what would he have said about God’s Not Dead, which will be coming to Netflix on August 5 (not that I’ve been checking)? Something awesome, probably. Something much awesomer than I could ever think up. I tried to read his archives but they were too terrible to look at — especially the parts where he talked about his Poor Wife. Big words are no substitute for intelligence. God is very definitely dead.
Anyway. I have a new cat! Her name is Angel. She came from a local shelter, and was previously an outdoor city stray. She spends 98.7% of her life sleeping, and distributes the waking portion among activities like eating, pooping, trying to climb out of my bedroom window, etc. It’s like I’m looking at myself, here, only much more beautiful and with denser fur:
As a bonus, here’s my mother’s cat demonstrating some important new discoveries he’s made in the field of cat sentience, using nothing but my eyebrow-plucking mirror and his own scientific determination:
I missed most of the spring blossoming action this year, but managed to get a decent-ish picture of the weird little ornamental fruit tree in the front yard. The fruits themselves are the size, shape and color of cranberries, but when you open one up it looks like a tiny apple and tastes like all the bitter regrets you turn over and over in your mind when you’re trying to fall asleep at night:
Lastly, here is a photograph of a strange-looking insect that I found on the hose post:
Yes, I live in a gigantic rain barrel. Thank you for asking.
I’ll try to think up something to write about that isn’t too boring later this week. Maybe I’ll review one of my dodgy ancient history books, or post a recipe or something. Something.
(The Blogger interface is really a piece of shit. I’d just like to add that. For posterity.)
(I also already published this once, by accident, but without the photos and with more typos. Sorry!)
(Mostly for myself.)
Anyway. I have a new cat! Her name is Angel. She came from a local shelter, and was previously an outdoor city stray. She spends 98.7% of her life sleeping, and distributes the waking portion among activities like eating, pooping, trying to climb out of my bedroom window, etc. It’s like I’m looking at myself, here, only much more beautiful and with denser fur:
As a bonus, here’s my mother’s cat demonstrating some important new discoveries he’s made in the field of cat sentience, using nothing but my eyebrow-plucking mirror and his own scientific determination:
I missed most of the spring blossoming action this year, but managed to get a decent-ish picture of the weird little ornamental fruit tree in the front yard. The fruits themselves are the size, shape and color of cranberries, but when you open one up it looks like a tiny apple and tastes like all the bitter regrets you turn over and over in your mind when you’re trying to fall asleep at night:
Lastly, here is a photograph of a strange-looking insect that I found on the hose post:
Yes, I live in a gigantic rain barrel. Thank you for asking.
I’ll try to think up something to write about that isn’t too boring later this week. Maybe I’ll review one of my dodgy ancient history books, or post a recipe or something. Something.
(The Blogger interface is really a piece of shit. I’d just like to add that. For posterity.)
(I also already published this once, by accident, but without the photos and with more typos. Sorry!)
(Mostly for myself.)
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