Back in Beantown

The Symposium was edifying, as usual, and I had many good meals and a great trip to the MOMA to see Into the Sunset:Photography's Image of the American West, a stellar show with some in your face images and not exactly beautiful snow capped mountains and amber waves of grain if you get the drift. But good stuff, and I can't tell you how many times I was brought up short, thinking, "yes, that's exactly how it looked." The shock of the familiar seen on display in a museum. http://www.moma.org/visit/calendar/exhibitions/97

Got stuck in hideous traffic yesterday, and took a break from the drive to piddle down to Old Saybrook (Saybrook Point) and gobble down a lobster salad and some wine.

Cats happy to see us, as always, which they let us know in their inimitable ways. No mad meows. Annie licked S.O.'s beard and Thisbe bit my toe. Love is strange.

Laundry is done, mail picked up, food in the house and the precious sprouts did not die. Think I'm growing a beanstalk. Fee Fie Foe Fum. Better get those suckers in the ground. Bleeding heart blooming. Lots of little seedlings up. Only recognize the mesclun. We are going to be eating well this summer, unless disaster or the rabbits strike. Bad bunnies.

Now I need to get back to writing, don't ya know?

Grapeshot

Just A Spoonful of Sugar or Maybe Moist Food

Last Thursday morning, we jammed Thisbe into the cat carrier for a vet appointment. She has been eating and drinking like crazy, and we thought that maybe her diabetes was back. It is.

This means I have the honor and privilege of giving her a shot of insulin every day. Just one.

So, the fun began. First of all, a huge (to me) vet bill for the exam and the test. Then I picked up the prescription which could be filled anywhere. We headed to Walmart, hoping that was cheapest.

Oh God, then the fun really began. First of all, the pharmacy was closed for lunch from 1:30 - 2:00. So we cooled our heels buying potting soil and looking for cat grass, which nobody but the pet stores carries anymore.

The pharmacy opened and the pharmacist was very nice, and he didn't say anything when I blanched at the $100.00 price, and the thing is, the medicine is only good for one month and Thisbe only gets one millileter. I got needles and meds and we came home after an expensive detour to Kohl's where everything was so cheap you just had to buy stuff.

Back home, I did a trial run on the needle and the medication, and all was not well. I couldn't seem to make the plunger take the smallest amount. In the meantime, Thisbe got the wind up(who knows how) and disappeared under the bed.

I decided to call it a day.

Yesterday, I practiced with another needle and water, and became quite adept at getting the itsty-bitsy amount of insulin into the needle. Thisbe disappeared under the bed about the time I was thinking about the first shot. She came out to eat, took one look at me, and disappeared under the bed again, into the basement, anywhere, anywhere but in the vicinity of her mistress.

In the meantime, I had somehow expelled the insulin from the syringe.

Today we decided to take a day off, but Thisbe was not fooled and disappeared under the bed after breakfast. When I went up to get dressed, she usually comes out and we have some Mommy/Kitty time. Not this morning.

The damn cat really does have ESP. We're going to play it cool until tomorrow. Maybe she'll calm down.

The fact that the insulin has to be kept in the fridge and the needles sterile and the cat swabbed with alcohol first add to the complexity, as this point the impossibility. Maybe the smell of alcohol triggered a bad memory. Or a new memory from the vet. Maybe she remembers her former experience, when I used to distract her with catnip or get her while she was eating.

She has the wind up. Don't know what to do. And we have $300+ worth of meds, tests, exams and needles going for naught.

Some days you just want to drown your troubles with a cup of hot cocoa. Or something.,

Grapeshot

Cat Blog Day

Would you believe I posted to the wrong blog? Here is the link. The blog is Reading Proust In Foxborough which has much to do with Proust and nothing to do with cats. The cats did do something of note this morning. Read on to see what.

http://proustwhore.blogspot.com/

Thisbe's Great Adventure

It had to happen sometime. Thisbe, the shyest, most scaredy of cats, stepped out onto the front porch to take the air this morning. When she sees a person, car, dog, delivery truck, she wants back inside. Now! Scratches on the storm door, with her tail the size of a baseball bat. I want in now.

Somehow, the front door got closed, and we couldn't hear Thisbe's hysterical scratchings. An hour passed. I had an aha! moment when I realized, eeek, Thisbe was still out on the porch.

Except she wasn't. My tortoise kitty was no where in sight. But I heard meows. Looked around. Couldn't see her. Looked some more. Ye gods! She is two doors down on the neighbor's porch. Neighbors that have a cat but aren't home. Bawling her head off. Looking right at me. Won't budge.

Yell to S.O. to help with the situation while I race upstairs to don something besides immodest pajamas with an uncertain waistband (read, old and stretched out and liable to fall at any moment). Good for cooking breakfast but not for racing around the neighborhood.

By the time I had changed clothes, S.O. appeared with Thisbe. He had to physically deliver her back to the house. Now, Thisbe hates to be picked up. Some long-held antipathy, but she let him carry her (without scratching) back home. She came in (tail as big around as the proverbial bat), and had lovey time. Calmed down. Probably ate a lot to further calm frayed cat nerves.

She's still reposing on the entry hall floor, eyes enormous, but a more relaxed posture. Saturday morning adventure! For all of us.