No. 1: Pet concerns
with Tamara Imes*
Went to the vet twice today for my cat who got his ass kicked by another cat. He had a gaping wound the size of a silver dollar plus a quarter from where his tail hits his ass to just above the middle of his back left leg.
The vet had to shave him and suture it. When I picked him up they had to give him a shot to bring him out of anesthesia. Then they gave him a shot for pain (fucked him up - got him even more high). Then they gave him his immunizations - three shots. Then they put a halo thingy-ma-jig around his head to keep him from chewing on it. Then they hand him to me (I didn't have a carrier for him because the lady who pawned him off on me didn't give me one). That is another story in itself.
So I take him, as he is moaning and howling, out to my Jeep and have (my son) open my door for me because I have my purse, the cat which's bleeding all over me still because they left the very back part open a bit to drain - OY VEY, and my keys. I put the cat in the car and the first thing he tries to do is stand up to the window. He goes to do that and is so fucked up from all the anesthesia and pain medicine that he falls over like a board sideways - halo and all. He didn't just land on the seat - no. He fell, flipping over onto his head since he went straight over, onto the floor of my Jeep. The halo acted as a stand for him for a second because he got stuck face down for about a half second until his hind end flipped over and hit the floor then he had to move his head from side to side to unstick it.
It is comical to think back on, but it was so sad and upsetting at the time. I was so stressed out when it was happening because he was moaning and crying and bleeding all over my leather seats and the poor thing was a fucked up wreck. I was petting him trying to comfort him and he wouldn't calm down because of the trauma he'd just gone through. Meanwhile it's rush hour traffic and I have to pull out onto one of the busiest streets in the valley - Redwood Road.
Anyway... Took an Ativan when I got home. I was a nervous wreck. My son screaming in the back seat because he was afraid the cat was going to get blood on him. Little putz boy. I love him to death - but he's a putz sometimes. Hahaha. Hey, I can say that. He's mine. Don't anyone else call him that though... Ay Dios. What's the world coming to when a little boy is afraid of getting some blood on him? It's only a little cat blood - c'mon! What's he going to do when he goes fishing and has to break a worm in half and put it on the hook? Oh my hell. Whatever. My baby boy. At least I don't have to worry about an animal killer on my watch. Ha! I will toot my horn to that. Thank you Jesus for not giving me a freakin' animal killer.
*Tamara Imes is the author of The Storm Before the Calm, and the Willesden Herald's answer to Erma Bombeck. Ed