Last week was not my best ever. It started off bad on Monday when I had to take our cat Alistair to the vet. We discovered by accident that he had seriously gross & painful-looking tooth/gum problems that needed to be remedied before they escalated to something worse.

Alistair hates people in general, but he especially hates the vet. He growled and hissed, which is all par for the course whenever he meets a stranger. They had to sedate him to scrape his teeth and do his yearly checkup, so I had to leave him there overnight. This upset me because I kept thinking what if the people I loved dropped me off in a strange place without telling me why, and I didn’t know if they’d ever come back? I cried, and my stomach was in knots that whole day and night and next day. He’s my baby, ok?

Because he is not the friendliest cat (did I mention that?) they had to both gas him and inject him with sedative. Then the gums were worse than they thought, so they had to laser them to stop the bleeding. While he was out, they did his yearly checkup, which involved giving him every shot in the known world.

Needless to say, when I picked him up from the vet, he was not in the best mood. The last time he was sedated (when he got neutered), he was all wild-eyed when I picked him up, but his face calmed down when he heard my voice. This time he showed no sign that he recognized me or my voice. Or maybe he did and he was pissed I left him at that wretched place.

All I know is I was one worried kittymom. I kept thinking, “What if his personality somehow got wiped out? What if he never remembers me?” Pretty silly, I know, but I just wanted to cuddle my baby and he wouldn’t let me and it sucked.

Once we got home he calmed down a lot, though his kittybrother Henry was still terrified of him. Alistair spent most of the night sitting straight up, staring glassy-eyed at nothing, and wobbling slightly. Meanwhile, I cried some more. Maybe it was hormonal.

Fortunately, next morning Alistair was back to normal, purring and rolling around wanting to be petted. My baby is ok! I went and bought a kitty toothbrush and toothpaste, and however ridiculous it sounds I will be brushing his teeth from now on, because I never want to put him (or myself) through something like this again.

But my best week ever wasn’t over yet. Just when I started feeling somewhat normal again, I got sick on Friday. I won’t go into the details, but it wasn’t the sweet little cough-cough/fever kind. Fortunately, I woke up pretty much better on Saturday and then we headed up to our friends’ house. The four of us had tickets to the NASCAR race in Talladega on Sunday.

I am not a NASCAR fan, which probably surprises no one who reads this blog. I’ve never understood the appeal of watching cars drive around in a circle 200-some-odd times. D, on the other hand, is a fan of pretty much anything that involves loud engines, so he likes it. He wanted to go, so I was taking one for the team.

But by race time, I had somehow become revved up for the event myself. There’s just something irresistible about being in a huge crowd of people, all excited about the same thing. It gets your adrenaline pumping – maybe because there’s always that slight chance the crowd will go insane and begin trampling folks.

Besides, the people-watching alone was worth the ticket price. I’ve never seen so many overbaked, age-resistant women in my life. Of course, I’ve never been to California.

Yet our racing adventure was not to be. The day was surprisingly windy, cloudy and cold for the last day of April. The rain held off until the moment the race started. We dashed in under the bleachers and stood huddled together next to a chain link fence, watching the dryer trucks drive slooooowly by on the track and trying to keep our plastic ponchos from billowing in the wind. This went on for two hours before the race was finally called. Postponed until the next day. You know, when we had to work.

Did I mention the tickets are non-refundable? Thank goodness for people-watching. We had more fun in that vein while waiting in traffic on the way out. A lady in tight shorts and an even tighter tank top began dancing beside her van, undulating her belly wildly and twirling her faux-blonde, waist-length ponytail around her head like a lasso. Some dudes walked by with Mardi Gras beads, and I don’t have to tell you what happened next. MY EYES! OH MY EYES!

Still, seeing a trying-not-to-be-old lady pop her boobs out of her tank top wasn’t enough to kill the disappointment. Darwin was devastated, our friends were devastated – heck, I’m devastated.

The race is going on right now, and we’re not there. I heard from a sports reporter friend that probably 100,000 people came back today. The sun is shining, so there’s probably lots more boobie-flashing and beer-funneling going on. Too bad we’re not there to see it.

I have high hopes for this week. I’m starting ballroom dancing lessons on Tuesday, I’ll be attending a wedding on Saturday night (the good kind that serves alcohol), and on Sunday I’m leaving for our annual work beach retreat. This one’s got to be better than last, right?

posted by K | filed under Family, Friends, Pets | 9 Comments

Comments

9 Responses to “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head”

  1. John on May 1st, 2006 3:12 pm

    Don’t feel too bad about the Kitty-mom drama. Hell, we even have a kid and we still cried for a week when one of our cats met an un-timely end not so long ago.

    Hope your karma balances out and you have a fabulous week. Good luck.

  2. RaceFanFriend on May 1st, 2006 7:47 pm

    It’s the devistated friend here. My heartbreak continued all day today. I felt a little less like crying after buying our tickets for the October race. I WILL be taking off the Monday after this time. I could not live through that again.

  3. Trissa on May 1st, 2006 9:58 pm

    I’m glad Alistair was fine after a day. I want to hear how the brushing of the teeth goes. Do they eat dry or wet cat food? I’ve never brushed a cat’s teeth and I can’t imagine what they’d do if I tried!

  4. Kristin on May 2nd, 2006 9:31 am

    John, I’m so sorry to hear about the death of your feline friend. In the back of my mind I was so worried something would go wrong during surgery and our boy would be gone.

    Devastated Friend, Just think of that woman twirling her hair around over her head, and you’ll have to smile. :)

    Trissa, We feed them mostly dry food with wet food as a treat now and then. Supposedly dry food is better for their teeth. Henry’s teeth are fine, but Alistair apparently has a tendency to have this problem. We already had to medicate him for inflamed gums once. And he’s only four years old! Most animals don’t have these problems until they’re much older. I’m anxious to see how the cat teeth brushing goes, too. He’s not handling taking his medicine very well.

  5. Poppy on May 2nd, 2006 11:21 am

    *sheepishly steps out from behind the potted plants*

    Hi…I’m a reader/lurker from waaaaaaay back. Enjoy your blog :)

    I was moved to finally post after reading your Kitty mama drama (good call John). I can sympathize with what you just went through. I had my own drama with our cat a couple of months ago. Our kittys name is Sadie, our daughter found her abandoned in a box with her 3 brothers (her best friend has all 3 of the brothers) on a country road at about 4 wks of age. We’ve had her for 5 yrs now and we love her dearly. Sadie does not like the vet at all. When we take her to the vet she makes these noises that sound like they’re coming from the bowels of Hell. Very freaky. In Feb. Sadie had to have surgery because she developed a large kidney stone with no hope of passing it. This meant she’d have to stay over night. When I went to pick her up she was SO pissed off about the whole ordeal that she wouldn’t even come out of the cage back in the surgery recovery room! She was hissing and growling even at ME! She’s always been so happy to see me that I never thought to take a carrier to the vets, never dreamed I’d need one. But this time there was NO way I was going to hold her! The vet couldn’t get her to come out, the assistant couldn’t. We all stood around looking pretty dumbfounded at this ball of pissed off cat! Finally a teenage boy who helps out around the office came up to me and asked if she was declawed and I said yeah…so he leaves the room, comes back with a towel and box. He opens the cage door, tosses the towel over her head, grabs her, stuffs her in the box, folds the lid closed and hands her to me saying “Have a nice evening!” Uhhh…yeah! In the meantime Sadie is snarling, growling and thrashing around in this box like a crazy! I hung on to the box tightly, rushed to the car, drove home like a mad woman, opened the door to the house, sat the box down, opened the lid and RAN! Yep, I ran straight for my bedroom and shut the door! I don’t mind admitting that I was afraid of what she was going to do when she got out of that box cause she was beyond mad. I sat in there about 10 minutes, ear pressed to the door and heard…nothing. Not one sound. So I screwed up my courage and peeked out of the door and saw…nothing. I creeped out of my room and down the hall and saw…nothing. I finally found her. She was curled up asleep in her favorite chair out in the sunroom and she slept there all evening. When I saw her the next day she acted like her old self. No sign of the evil kitty she’d been the evening before. Whew…was I ever glad! The only lingering side effect of the event is her naked belly! Her tummy hair has yet to grow back :(

    Glad your boy did ok and hope you do ok with the teeth brushing. I’ve never tried that and don’t know what I ever will. Tips for medicine taking…I just tucked Sadies pills in a bit of wet cat food and down the hatch they went. I also tucked them in a bit of cheese for a little change up.

    Good luck! BTW

  6. Kristin on May 4th, 2006 10:09 am

    Thanks for the comment, Poppy! Your experience with Sadie sounds veeeeerry familiar! That’s exactly how Alistair sounds … growling, hissing, knocking around in the box. When he got neutered, I didn’t think to bring a carrier either, and we had the same problem. He eventually let me get him out of the cage in back, but then while I was holding him waiting to pay, he freaked out again and they had to give me a cardboard carrier. Then you could see it shaking around like it was possessed!

    This time a baby was in the waiting room and would start crying every time Alistair growled! That’s my boy – a danger to others and frightener of infants.

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