the boys

Nov. 16th, 2009 10:34 am
theholyinnocent: (Default)
So, after much deliberation and careful consideration...in other words, Mrs. THI saw them on craigslist and WANTED them...we have two new cats. I bet you didn't know cats posted ads on craigslist. It went like this: Two young studs, one blonde, one black, looking to service older ladies with disposable income. Are you a little on the big side? We don't mind some junk in the trunk, ladies. We like to party and reset your alarm clock for 6 am. Ha! Is that funny or what? Please respond to XXXX.

And lo, we found ourselves with Diego and Leon. Well, originally they were named Diego and Lilo, but obv. Lilo brings up all sorts of Lohan flashbacks for me (Linds u don't call, u don't text anymore111!!!), so we decided the cats should represent our secret communist agenda and thus they became Leon Trotsky and Diego Rivera. (Shut up, we are so commies! Power to the people as long as they wear deodorant on the subway. Don't get too close, proletariat, you might spill our Starbucks.)

Here's Leon lookin' handsome:



Here's Diego with his nemesis, the Polar Bear:



Diego has a bit of a hinky eye. We do have some eye ointment for him and hopefully it will clear up soon. He also has a bobtail!

After a mad weekend filled with kitty races, kitty gladiatorial battles, and kitty rockclimbing ("I'm sure I can climb up this bookshelf...someday."), today is the first day the boys are home alone. I knew I should have gotten insurance for the apartment.
theholyinnocent: (earl by iconofilth)
Happy New Year, everyone!

At last, the holidays are past. But I have been remiss in sharing the joy of the season with you. As many of you know, the hallowed holiday known as Festivus possesses, a major component of its festivities known as The Airing of Grievances. In honor of my increasing admiration for the show My Name is Earl and in particular its rechristening [hyuk] of Christmas as Feliz Naviblah, I present to you my own Feliz Naviblah-inspired, post-holiday funzone known as The Sharing of Stupidities.

1. Penn Station, December 24, absurdly early for train.

Me: You got your meds, right? [Referring to spouse's blood pressure medication and not a fun drug like Vicodin or Valium or something, m'kay?]

Spouse: [very blank look of distress on face]

Me [very helpful]: Uh oh.

This was probably all my fault. I don't know how, but it was. She was probably distracted by my beauty that morning. Or perhaps my constant whining for coffee.

2. Christmas Day at sister's house, approximately 11:30 pm, after much eating and drinking and fruitlessly watching about 7 hours of a Law and Order holiday marathon in the vain, absurd hopes of seeing an Abbie episode but wouldn't you know it, the fucking bastards, who seem to be moving through the show in chronological ADA order, go straight from Jamie to the Rohmbot! Fuckers!

Frantic phone call from catsitter in New York: I've just tried to get into your apartment but the key's not working! You didn't by any chance get a lock changed or something, did you?

Me: Well, no we didn't get the locked changed...

Brain [sounding suspiciously like Dr. Cox on Scrubs: Just hold on one second there, Wilma. Perhaps you were not personally responsible for the changing of the lock, but if I recall correctly...Pretty Airhead Neighbor upstairs got mugged over the summer--yes I know, it's not PAN's fault she got mugged, I'm not blaming the victim but you just know she was traipsing through a waterfront neighborhood swinging that big old purse of hers in a big old casual arc of happiness like she was auditioning for a Stayfree commercial--and thus lost her keys and your landlady's minions had to change the lock on the front door of the building AND SO YOU FORGOT TO MAKE A COPY OF THE NEW KEY FOR THE CATSITTER AND YOU GAVE HER THE OLD SET OF SPARE KEYS.

Me: ...uh, actually yeah, the lock was changed.

In Brooklyn, no one can hear your cat scream. Until you frantically rush home the next day from luckily notsofaraway to feed the hysterical motherfucker.

3. Sunday, New Year's Day.

Spouse: Are you sure you have to work tomorrow? I have off. I think a lot of places have off.

Me: Baby, you know how my shitass "not for profit" bleeding heart academic liberal workplace loves to gyp me out of not only a decent paycheck, but out of every freakin' holiday they can think of! Of course I have to work tomorrow!

Yesteday, shortly after 9 am.

Me [approaching darkened, empty office building]: Fuck.

[Goes in, checks email, abuses printer, goes home.]

In closing, I must say I'm happy the holidays are over, and my lone resolution for 2006 is to keep my head out of my ass as much as possible.

Wish me luck.
theholyinnocent: (Default)
Over the weekend we dragged out poor, unsuspecting cat to the vet:

Cat: ::sniffing Sherpa per carrier:: Say...this looks a little familiar...you guys aren't going on another trip, are you? But this isn't your shapeless Eddie Bauer duffelbag! And it's not Christmas yet, even I know that. ::sniffing carrier again:: Hmmm, this smells like...

[Phone rings. The car service to the vet has arrived.]

Cat: ...OMG, IT'S THE SMELL OF MY OWN FEAR!

[Cat is mercilessly scooped up and stuffed into carrier.]

At the vet, the idea of Teh Cat's annual shots are shelved when we report to the vet that Teh Cat has been going through water like P. Diddy goes through Cristal, and thus it has been coming out the other end in vast quantities as well. (We shan't discuss the horror of the litter box.) Tests are done, and what we've feared over the past couple weeks have been confirmed: Teh Cat has diabetes.

Teh Cat blinks at the news. My spouse makes a squeak of distress; this is her beloved boy. I think, "ohshitNEEDLES!" because we now have to stick him twice a day for his insulin. So yesterday we went back to the vet, who showed us how to stick our poor boy (counting his first insulin injection later that evening, he was jabbed a total of four times: A demonstration from the vet, and test shots from both the spouse & I). I didn't do badly at all with the needle; some sort of latent rational, calm gene must have kicked in. (I like to think said gene is from my mom, who was a nurse...or maybe it's a sadistic streak: I don't do so well when the needle is going into me.)

It helps that Teh Cat is so lalalala calm about being injected. I think the change in his diet has helped: we're now supposed to feed him nothing but this canned food for diabetic cats--it's like the Atkins Diet for kitties, and he loves it. This morning after he ate and we had to give him his first shot of the day, he was purring happily while getting his shot. Goddamn the Pusher Man!

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