Sunday, January 22, 2012

Cats and camels.

Well, hey, Internet.  How's things?  It's been a long two weeks here in the cave.

The cat tried to die.
Here's His Filthiness at the e-vet, after he started pissing blood all over my house.  It was an exciting few days.  The regular vet did a belly ultrasound, and discovered the giant massive kidney infection that wasn't showing up in the urine cultures.  He also had me switch to a hypoallergenic food, and the diarrhea stopped OVERNIGHT.  
O.
VER.
NIGHT.
Two years of horrid, gawd-awful gut problems cured by switching food.  He's on antibiotics for the kidneys, and insulin for the diabetes, but otherwise, he's healthy as a horse.  I feel massively guilty that I was poisoning the poor guy for two years, but at least it's no longer a problem.  You want rabbits and peas, Old Man?  You can have all the rabbits and peas you can handle.  I'm just happy you're making poop-shaped poops again (sorry, but it's an exciting thing for me).  AND THEY'RE ALL IN THE CATBOX.  ALL OF THEM.  I'M SO EXCITED I COULD CRY.

I also went to Quartzsite for the yearly Quest For Odd Shit.

Want a rusty farm tool?  They have a few.

How about a raccoon's dick bone?  They have those, too.  And they're cheaper in bulk.  I can't figure out why you'd want one, and I'm the sort of person who collects coyote toe bones and bird feet.

I brought Trixie with me, because she needs to learn how to handle herself in public.  She was horrible for the first hour of every day, lunging and yanking and barking at other dogs.  After that, she was too exhausted to misbehave.  Somewhere around hour five of walking, she was desperate for a lap to sit in.  Even if it wasn't a real lap.

DEZE GUISE NO IZ PETTY ME.  WHY NO IZ PETTY?

The Toaster-Transformer performed admirably.  The sleeping platform is comfortable, solid, and the car was probably the nicest hotel room in town.  Easy to pack up, too.  The Poodle guards her territory.
DIS MY HOME.  YOU NO IZ ALLOWED.

 On our way out of town, the dog and I paid our respects to Hi Jolly.  His name was actually Haiji Ali, and was a cameldriver from Syria who was hired by the US Army in the mid-1800s to set up a camel-freight herd in the American Southwest.  When the project was abandoned, he settled in Quartzsite.  His tomb, while not particularly Syrian, is still a nice little monument to one of the odder projects in US history.  There is a dominant camel theme running through the entire town to this day.  Although, no actual live camels, which I think is a shame.  I like camels.  They're ill-tempered and have pretty eyelashes.
Hi, Jolly.

As far as BatFit, I am slowly working on dancing more.  I just have a hard time dancing when I'm sober (unless you count bouncing around in the car while I'm driving, which is probably dangerous.  Scratch that, it IS dangerous, I heard Skrillex's "Bangarang" on a local station and about lost control of my car.  I like that track a little too much). I jot down my day in my halfassed little journal, but I record my food and activities with the LoseIt app on my phone.  And I'm working on my bad habit.

Bad habit?  Diet Pepsi.  GALLONS.  I'm trying to cut it down to one a day.

New habit?  Tea.  Black.  None of this penny-ante green tea BS.  I want it black, I want it strong, and I want it bitter.  Sugar?  NO.  Honey?  NO.  Cream?  A THOUSAND TIMES NO.  Earl Grey at home, Irish Breakfast at work.  My roommate, who is Syrian, is excited for this.  Apparently, large portions of Syrian Culture revolve around hot caffeinated beverages, and my reluctance to drink coffee has caused her consternation.  If you cut her, she bleeds coffee, but tea is almost as fun for her.  Our house is littered with teaspoons and cups.

I've also decided that I really do need to go back on meds for my ADD.  I took Dexedrine for a long time in my early 20s, and I was terribly productive.  It's a pain in the ass to get the meds, though, as they're apparently fun for everyone and have a habit of escaping into the recreational drug trade.  I need a triplicate scrip, which requires me to call my doctor once a month, pick up a physical piece of paper, drive it to the pharmacy, wait a day, drive back to the pharmacy, and pick up 30 days worth of linear thought in a bottle.  That's a lot of steps for someone who can't remember to take her laundry out of the washer and put it into the dryer.  College kids- STOP USING MY MEDS FOR FUN!  YOU'RE MAKING MY LIFE DIFFICULT!  I've been on a drug vacation since 2005ish, and my life has just devolved into a simmering pot of chaos.  NOTHING gets done.  Whole house is in shambles.  Starting to drop the ball at work.  I'm not super fond of some of the side effects (cottonmouth comes to mind), but I like the ability to finish what I start.  I'm calling the doc in the morning.

All right.  I've written a novel here.  Time to go back to sculpting (pics to come later).




3 comments:

  1. My sister has a cat that had horrible digestive problems and, ahem, constant leakage. Same situation. Years of hell and with a diet change everything changed overnight. Glad you found a solution. OMG that flea market place looks dangerous. I think I'd need to take two cars to haul everything home. :)

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  2. @LadyBethezda- I still regret not buying the barbecue I saw out there last year- it had the heart of an oil drum, and was sculpted out with brass to look like a life-sized bull. You opened the rib cage to access the grill. The smoke vented out the nostrils. The only reason it's not in my yard now is because I couldn't figure out how to get it home- I have no trailer hitch on my car. Neither the barbecue nor the vendor were there this year. I weep.

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