Sophie likes the basket, too. She likes it a little too much and has now gnawed through the weaving at every corner.
This was Nick’s project last night after I abdicated control of the laptop. I found a site that designs South Park characters because I swear there is a lady at work who looks and moves like one. Anyway, the site was addictive. So, this is us with big eyes, no noses, and legs that don’t really move. Nice job, Nick! His first version had me decked out in accessories: a mug of beer in one hand, an iPod in the other, and a camera around my neck. Eerie that he knows me so well…
To the patient pet,
Playful when it suited you,
And attitude abound,
You were part of the family,
And my best friend.
I took her to the vet yesterday, both of my aunts coming with for moral support. Up until the afternoon, I had remained optimistic. As Nick put plainly, no matter what happened, Friskey likely wasn’t to return to live with Dad. I was thinking that she had become a high maintenance cat in her advanced age, and I would gladly go the extra mile with her providing that she could still have a good life. I watched her waddle around, I listened to her gasp while she ate the can of Fancy Feast I brought with me for a treat, and I heard her scream when I lifted her to leave for the appointment. I guess sometimes you just know your pet, and I knew when I lifted her how the appointment was going to go. I started crying right then. This animal was in pain.
At the clinic, she cried, hissed and growled while the vet examined her. My sweet natured cat was actually hissing. She left the situation open to me, the vet did. She offered that we could do blood work, take x-rays…her statement ended on a higher note than it started, questioning what path I wanted to take since one seemed so obvious yet so painful. I tried to keep my lower lip from trembling as I replied, “I think at this point, the humane thing to do…” and she nodded in agreement and fetched the paperwork. I had as much time as I wanted to say goodbye before they started everything.
I have no doubts that I did what was best for her, and thankfully I had my aunts to reassure me of that in the tender moments just after when I felt like a murderer. I remember so clearly the day I brought her home. Now, I will remember so clearly the day that I didn’t.
For the first time since getting my new laptop in May, I tried to access my external hard drive, where I have stored all of my digital images since 2004. Brenda requested a picture of Buford that I had taken awhile back.
Compatibility issue between 3M Petrifilm Plate Reader and Windows Vista
This problem was caused by a compatibility issue between Windows Vista and 3M Petrifilm Plate Reader.
3M Company, the company that manufactured 3M Petrifilm Plate Reader, has informed Microsoft that they do not expect to offer updates to fix this problem.
Wow. Sucky. Looks like I will be bugging my aunts to burn a (few) CD(s) off of my picture files. This week has been mostly lousy anyhow, so why not this, too. I have been attending class at work, class at home, and all the while I have been thinking about what will happen tomorrow. My mind is tired, and I feel sluggish. I have a 750-word essay due Sunday that I haven’t even started researching yet. Nick brushes off this concern, says I can crank out 750 words in a heartbeat. True.
I am taking Friskey to the vet tomorrow afternoon. Dad pulled a 180° on me early this week and told me that she seemed fine now. After a week of weeping and making myself okay with the decision, it was painful to hear his words…false hope is lethal. He stopped by the clinic earlier this week to describe the way that she acts, and they suspected that she has the equivalent of human Alzheimer’s. They calculated her age in human years at nearly 90. I told him to make an appointment for Friday afternoon when I had my half-day of work. I knew that whatever the outcome of the visit, I had to be the one to take her. I had to enlist the help of my fellow kitty-lovers to go along with me.
On the flip side, I’m a published photographer now! On a whim, I submitted an oldish photograph to a local news station’s weather calender contest. While in Florida, I was told that I was a finalist. Yesterday morning I noticed my photograph on a commercial for the calendar before I left. Last night, UPS delivered a package with 15 calendars, umbrellas, a jump drive and a thermal coffee mug. I am July! Since we have so many calendars, Nick thinks we ought to put on up by Sophie’s litter box. He reasons that maybe she would like to have something to look at while she “poos”.