aaaaagh. poor deady. 😦 😦 😦
He’s sick. Maybe has a cyst on his bladder, but the vet isn’t sure. My parents decided to take him to the vet while I was sleeping, because he was sitting in the litter box and just crying like he was hurt… now he’s got a ton of medication and keeps hopping into his litter box every few minutes and peeing a tiny little bit, and just looking generally sick and unhappy…
And we’re supposed to keep an eye on him and if we notice that he’s not leaving anything behind when he goes into the litter box, or if he starts crying again, we’ll have to take him to the animal hospital and he’ll get hooked up to a catheter and an IV…and apparently they’ll keep him for a minimum of 3 days for that. -_-”
Poor Deady. He’s too tiny and cute to be sick.
(Hahahahahaha…when I called about his prescription though, the pharmacy tech kept apologising because he kept getting the name wrong and calling him “Deadly”. Also, fun fact about tweenaged me…the title of this post used to be the name of a digital cat that I had back when my parents said we couldn’t have pets. I didn’t know what to call it, so I decided that if I named it “my cat” in another language, nobody would know how exceptionally lame and uncreative I was.)
Now that my parenthetical side-stories are done, this is also disarranging my attempts to plan for the wedding…because I had the intention of paying for the date this month (if the church EVER gets back with me about whether we can have either of the dates I asked about), and now on top of the extra money I already spent for the car, I’ve now spent almost a fifth of my budget for the month on just his medication, and I am pretty sure my parents are going to be wanting reimbursed for the vet visit…
I can’t win. I just can’t. It’s maddening.
And here is a conversation about that feeling.
Paris: …because sometimes you just don’t understand why things can’t turn out better, and it makes you want to hurt people.
Me: Yes! That’s perfect. I Identify so much with that statement.
Paris: That’s how Hitler felt when he didn’t make it into art school and decided his backup plan was to just kill people.
Me: You know how factories have signs saying, “X number of accident-free days”? We need one of those, except that it would track how many days go by without you guys bringing up Hitler. *pause* Or Nazis. Or fascism. Any of it, really.
Paris: *laughs* It will get set back to zero every day that you work.