Sleep With One Eye Open

I was gone AGAIN this weekend. But now the traveling is over for a while. To add insult to injury, when I arrived home early this afternoon I left almost immediately for a meeting and then had a call on Skype. So Oliver and I didn’t settle down for a nap on the love seat until after dinner. He was full of the purr.

Obi doesn’t trust that I’m really back. He settled down for a nap at the same time on the couch. Every time I looked over he was napping…with one eye open and watching The Girl. I’m not going anywhere without him knowing.

***

I was expecting to have a super cute video of Kitten Thunder and their first Skype. I mean, a man’s voice coming from my computer? His face on the screen? Me trying to be semi-professional? All of these things told me I would have two kittens crawling on my lap, over my shoulders, onto the keyboard…

Nope. Not a kitten in sight. 

How…catlike.

***

At my parents’ house this weekend, Cousin Spade helped me get ready for bed in the basement. After I turned out the light he jumped up on the bed, walked up my leg, over my shoulder, and stepped on my head as he moved on to the nightstand.

Then I heard it. The sound of a contact case scooting.

“Spade. Stop.”

Scoot. Scoot.

“Spade-O. Don’t knock my stuff off the table.”

Scoot. Scoot scoot.

“Hey. Spade. Un-uh.”

Scoot. Scoot scoot scoot.

*Sigh*

When I woke up in the morning I found my contact case balanced precariously on the ledge of the table. Exactly half on and half off. Also, the black kitten had scooted my contact solution bottle onto the edge. He wasn’t there to see the look on my face.

I told him later that I was impressed.

Advertisement

Eau de Doctor

On Wednesday morning, Oliver and I were off to the doctor. We were lucky to get Dr. Tiffany, who not only witnessed the dreaded Fever of Unknown Origin but is also my friend. Oliver? He was less than friendly.

When my sweet grey kitten doesn’t feel well, he is not exactly polite about having things shoved…places. He’s not a fan of having her squeeze along his leg to see where it hurts, then squeezing it again to confirm where it hurts, then squeezing it again to show me that it hurts. To add insult to injury, she put him on the counter next to a DOG (chihuahuas count as dogs, right? Hee!) while she was taking his temperature in the back room so a little hamster canine saw the indignity.

Luckily, Dr. Tiffany does not take the things she is called by animals personally. After all, they are there because they don’t feel well.

Because we could find a painful spot on his leg – which was not the case last year during the FUO – we were hopeful it was not illness but was an injury. He didn’t have a fever, he ate yesterday, and on Tuesday night he was instigating a Thunder. So we got him a shot of drugs for the pain and I took him home and delivered him to the office condo with some ear kisses. Obi did his part by laying on top of Oliver for nose to tail purr therapy.

The great thing is that Tiffany has a fantastic smelling perfume. I know this because Oliver smells like it now. And, because of the therapy session, Obi smells like it too. I’m glad she doesn’t wear Emeraude. Yuck.

"Sleeping kitten, do not disturb."

This morning, the story changed. When I woke up Oliver was still laying at my feet; he hadn’t moved AT ALL all night. Not even to come lay in my arms under the covers. I nudged him with my foot and he got up. No begging for breakfast. I carried him downstairs where he had two bites of food, used the litterbox and walked right back upstairs to climb into bed.

I started counting the minutes until the veterinary office opened.

My baby does not skip breakfast.

Luckily, we had anticipated – dreaded – that this might happen. Yesterday we both fought against the urge to load him up with antibiotics even though there were no symptoms to indicate it. Because of yesterday’s exam, I did not have to take Oliver back across town to get antibiotics. I called. They filled. I picked up.

Can I just take a moment to put out a challenge? Someone invent tuna flavored antibiotics, okay? This iteration of antibiotic is at least room temperature. It hurts my head that, for 20 years, we’ve been shoving cold banana flavored liquid down the throats of our cats. Because cats? They don’t eat bananas.

Anywho, Oliver seems better this evening. He’s still crabby and Obi is getting scorn from all three of us when he tries to Thunder with his brother. But Oli is on the mend. For now.

Fingers crossed for a wimpy FUO.

***
It’s Thunder Thursday! Since I couldn’t post a picture last week, we’ll do two pictures this week. First, is Cousin Eliot enjoying his new cat tree. Must be yummy.

"Needs salt."

The second is Cousin Puck, enjoying the gift that keeps on giving: boxes. This particular box was perfect with enough room for a giant puddle of cat, a large exit and a window. It WAS perfect. Unfortunately, shortly after this picture was taken, the box became a piece of flat cardboard when someone tried to pick up the box with a 20 pound cat in it.

"Finally, a room with a view."