While I find it adorable that these two are such good pals, it leads me to wonder if Jesse might need some playmates. Of a more homo sapien variety. You know, before Jesse starts barking.
*sigh* Where are some good, fertile eggs when you need them?
A few days ago our adopted cat, Angel, started doing her business indoors, on my bath mat. Much to the dismay of my nostrils. Since she’s a pretty proud feline, this was rather embarrassing for her. She slinked past me uttering a very sad meowwwwww and I knew something was up. When I inspected the spot of her indiscretion, I found blood in her puddle. We rushed her off to the vet immediately, who informed us that Angel either has kidney stones or a bladder infection.
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Aw, poor kitty! Now, whether it’s kidney stones OR a bladder infection makes little difference to me – because I’ve seen grown men cry when passing stones, and grown women cry when passing urine during a bladder infection. Either way I am feeling very very sorry for little Angie-pangie right now. Poor girlie!
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The vet informed us that the only way to be sure which of the two illnesses she’s suffering from, would be to acquire a urine sample.
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HELLO? A urine sample??? From a cat???
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And then the vet did a little sniggery snigger, as if to say “Haha! Glad it’s not me!”
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She sent us home with a sterile jar that many of you infertiles might recognize as a swimmer catcher. If you know what I mean.
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And then hubsband dearest proceeded to inform me that it would be MY job to catch said urine. Seeing as he did the whole Jesse-feeding-drama. The words “you owe me” might or might not have been uttered. Can’t be sure. What with the world swirling before my very eyes at the thought of my prancing around with my hand beneath the cat’s hoo-hah attempting to catch a drop or two of that stinky stuff.
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Needless to say, I spent the next three days lurking around the cat with a bottle in my hand. And it rained. And my girl was teething at the time. So, at one point I had Jesse balanced on my one hip and a sterile jar in my other hand while I dexterously danced through big mud puddles chasing after the blinking cat who kept jumping up and running away as soon as I strategically placed my hand between her hind legs.
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And I still haven’t procured a single drop of the friggin stuff for the sniggery vet. One might say that it posed a wee problem.
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I crack myself up!
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Anyhoo. It’s been a bit of a catastrophe, to say the very least. For now, Angel is semi-ok. Got new meds from the vet and hopefully she’ll be on the mend soon, because clearly it is more difficult to acquire a drop of the doodi from a cat than to teach a toddler to eat.
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Ask me. I’m still recovering from that episode!
Did you ever read the email that did the rounds a year or more ago, about the woman who attempted to help her son's lizard (maybe a gecko?) give birth, but unbeknown to her, gecko's don't give birth to live young and she was actually just yanking it's, uh, ahem, chain?
(Yeah, it's all downhill from here. Don't say I didn't warn you.)
Wellll, monkey see, monkey do. And yeah, you guessed it, I'm the monkey. Minus the gecko. But add one big fat city slicker cat that we adopted from my sister when they moved to New Zealand last month. But that's a whole other story, and one that I'll only be telling when it no longer reduces me to crocodile tears.
Anyhoo... Where was I? Oh yes.It won't be news to y'all that I'm still pretty much a city slicker myself, so I don't do bugs too easily. Warra warra fish paste, long story short, it's the end of a long day and I'm doing the Hillbilly Couch Potato Thing this evening after the rest of the Hillbilly Household have hit the hay, when Big Fat City Slicker Cat hops up onto the couch next to me for a snuggle and a nibble of my KFC sprinkle pops, when SHOCK! HORROR! What do I spy dangling from her torso but a big fat spongy tick! And where was Hubby when I needed him, but already throwing some ZZzzz's around the room! Well, there aint no way I'm going to bed tonight wondering if Angel (the big fat city slicker cat) is hoping to follow me to bed with that grotesque parasite dangling from her... So off I run to the trusty bathroom cabinet to grab my tweezer and return to detick fatcat. Only, by the time I've summoned up my courage and swallowed the bile collecting in my mouth, placed the tweezer tips firmly on the tick and yanked... It's only then that I see it is more firmly attached than a tick... It is in fact a fat cat nipple! And I will never be grabbing anything ever again with a tweezer. I am so grossed out that I can't sleep. Ew. Poor cat. The next time she sees a tweezer coming it will be enough to give her a nervous tic.
Oh well, as long as she doesn't mind sharing Char's lap with me,
... or napping! 
My poor little kitty, Cassidy, was attacked by dogs on Monday. I didn't mention it yesterday, because I was waiting to hear from the vet how she was... When Robin and I arrived home from a day or two in Durbs the animals were all acting a little weird. Well, a little weirder than usual. Being hillbilly pets and all. They didn't come running up to us and jump all over our luggage, nor even wag their tails or send a few purrs and legrubs our way. Robin and I were both like "what's up with the fandamily that they aren't happy to see us?" and then I found little Cassidy curled up on the bed in our 2nd bedroom, all ripped up and bloody. Poor little kitty. Fortunately none of her internal organs were hurt, but I feel soooo sorry for her. She spent Monday night in hospital, and had bunches of stitches. She's very battered and bruised and moving around takes great effort and lots of limping - but I am SO GRATEFUL that it happened shortly before we got home, and not the previous day when we were still in Durbs. Poor little girly. She's still a bit forlorn, but she will survive. Which is more than can be said for my walrus nerves!
I would post a pic of her in all of her shaved and stitched glory, but this blinking blogger is still just giving me error messages. One good thing though, is it's forcing me to learn some html in trying to figure out where the error lies. Apparently old dogs can learn new tricks. Erm. Ahem.
And we're still waiting and waiting to hear anything about the adoption... What was it I was saying about my walrus nerves?
Hello everyone. I feel like I am emerging from the very depths of the deepest pit today. The last two days have been horrible really. Not life destroying, or sad. I just felt weighed down with heaviness. My body was crampy. And tired. Oh, so very tired. Everything I did required monumental effort and even smiling took some doing. How awful. What a terrible waste of a few days.
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The last two days reminded me why I hated the Dragon Pills so much and why I had decided that I would never use them again... and yet, here I am. I wonder what I was thinking to even contemplate trying again. Especially when I feel so bad on them. Oh well. I'll have to ride this cycle out. I still have two more months of pills... but, man, I don't know if I want to try again after this spell of feeling so crappy...
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But, today I'm feeling better. I don't quite have my groove back, but at least my body isn't so crampy anymore. Ha-le-luuuuuu-jah! Oh, and I especially wanted to say THANK YOU to Rita for her short comment on my One Bad Post. You made me feel like I wasn't going mad at all. You reminded me that this isn't the real me. It's those blinking Dragon Pills. Thank you!!! You will never know how much that meant (means) to me. The other comments too, but that one really made me feel "sjoe! it's going to be ok." I'm so glad I met you! The Been There, Done That Club helps me so much.
And in other news, you will never believe who we saw yesterday. Go ahead, guess! Remember my kitty that ran away last year? We never did find out what had happened to her. And then, last night Robin and I were driving up our hillbilly driveway after our date, when the lights of our 4x4 landed on some eyes reflecting in the bushes. That's not a strange occurrence when you live in the bush, so we didn't get too excited about it. And then the lights fell on the animal again, and she was sitting in the driveway, about 200metres from the house. Robin and I both shouted "Moonie!" at the same time, and she darted into the bush. We didn't see her again, even though we walked up and down the road calling for her for about fifteen minutes. At least I know she's fat and happy. And hasn't been mauled by wild dogs or something. Just why she would choose to live in the bush and have to hunt for food etc. when she gets yummy food and a warm spot on our bed at home is beyond me. So, you see - The Hillbilly Syndrome strikes again. Even the cats aren't immune.
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And on a totally different note - welcome back to the blogosphere Chrissy. I'm so glad you're blogging again.
And now I'm going to make myself an enormous cuppa coffee, because if my body's sending me the right messages, then this cycle definitely hasn't worked, and I can just as well enjoy a good cuppa in commiseration.
Even the corgies are turning into Hillbillies. It comes with the territory and nobody is immune. I'm not entirely sure it isn't catching over cyber-space. Let this be your warning then. Achtung Baby! Hillbillies lurking.
... a sexy guy and his cute new puppy? Meet Baxter, our new little corgie...
And this here is Baxter's mom, Kiara, the other newest member of our family:
And then there are a few new additions to our kitchen...
My new african masks. I just luvvem! (I had to show a closeup so you could see the scale of these guys!) Way to usher in the new year, that's for sure. Let's just say I was starved for some serious retail therapy, and Durban still doesn't know what hit it when we arrived!
Seriously. What? You think I'm exaggerating? Here's the evidence. Oh, and that is a WEEK OLD bruise, just in case you were thinking I'm a real ninny.
Ahem, um, yes, that is my butt. Sorry. Didn't meant to put you off your breakfast. BUT(t), I do feel better. I am back at work, and LOVING it. Hooray for work. And getting out of the house. So maybe that kick-a** Vitamin B12 jobba worked after all. Which makes that bruise on my ugly butt totally worth it.
My kitty (Cassidy) is back at the vet again. It's been a total rollercoaster ride. One day she's looking better, the next she's not eating again, not moving etc. So we took her in yesterday and she spent the night on the drip again. Poor little pooty tat. Please keep praying for her?
Above: Cassy on my shoulder and Jazzy on my book
Above: Little Jazzy
Above: Little Cassidy
Little Sleeping Beauty! (Jazzy)
Now tell me those aren't the most precious little creatures you've ever seen? They are so happy here too. They purr every time you touch them and cuddle right up as close as they can get to you. Too cute. Oh and just in case you were wondering - no these aren't Maine Coon kittens. We're getting our Maine Coon in December (they only give the kittens away at age 12 weeks...) so it's the Waiting Game for the catzilla.
Couldn't resist posting these pics of my hubby and Buttercup sitting together in their hammock on our stoep, that I took a minute ago.
