Next Stop: Tender Viddles

If it weren't for the fact that I'm having about the 20th bad hair day in a row- which I think qualifies my hair for bad haircut status, and if I weren't falling asleep here at work with a headache, which is rare for me, then I might not have very much to complain about right now.

My sons are with my in-laws, The Future President is with her dad and only The Lip Model is with us this week, which is her choice for a change. Her timing is impeccable- we almost had a full-on break, but that's ok. Her 15 year-old self is enjoying a quietude our house usually doesn't have and she pretty much wants us to leave her alone anyway. Unfortunately, in a rare twist of fate, she is not grounded, but a few of her closest friends are, so she's crawling the walls from boredome a typical teen-aged amount. Yea boring. I love boring. I crave boring.

I say that now, but with still 3 weeks before school starts back up for me, I may be complaining later. Oh gosh, I couldn't even delay my punchline delivery long enough to insert a few quirky words there. There is no truth in that whatsoever. I have a shitload and a ton of cleaning to do. I have a year's worth of sleep to catch up on, some school things I need to do, tons I want to write and still 400 things in my Google Reader just today. Oh, and I have four kids. I work at a job where I have very little to do 2 X 12 hour days a week and people stop and see me here at the computer, after I've been here 3ish years ,and want to pity me and the boringness of it. I say, "Pisshshaah!"

I love it. It's never enough time, to get my schoolwork done, to read as much as I want to read, to write what I want to write, to crochet what I want to crochet (another half a scarf, anyone?). I will never complain about my slacker job, nor will I complain about being bored... unless I just have nothing else to complain about.

Now, that Mr. Bee, well, he has a thing or two to complain about. He's got a blog-hustlin' wife who's paranoid he's getting blowjobs from the office secretary with the crush on him, but that's only because it would be her perfect karmic due or because she doesn't have a kinky co-worker of her own right now.

The people Mr. Bee works with are Republican nutjobs (except that lady, of course) and think me quite the weird one. The three guys he's worked with the longest have wives who stay home with their kids and when Mr. Bee has to call into work half the time one of us needs to stay home with a sick kid, they just think us more dramatic.

For a few weeks, I had to study at night toward the end of the semester and he would have to get off early enough to get the kids after their after-school program, while his co-workers are work-aholics and worked their 12-hour days. The thing is, Mr. Bee is no workaholic. He's loyal these days, but he would far rather be home than work if he weren't feeling pressured by his boss.

On the first day of the kids' winter break, after he'd been telling his work, "Oh, I'll be able to work tons and tons with Ms. Bee out of school," I awake at 2 in the morning to our orange kitty who's getting big's rustling around in the stacks of papers on my desk. A few minutes later he came and sat on top of me..., but not in his usual purry manner. He felt tense and when I petted him, there was something wet on him.

I got up and took him into the living room and turned on the light and saw that he was... foamy at the mouth. Arrrgghhh! When I tried to look at him, he freaked out, scratched me and tried to get away. Since I had the boys + friend there and no spare rooms, I put him outside, so I could put him down and figure out what I needed to do. He acted weird on the porch for a while and I read online enough to feel I had an bonafide Old Yeller situation on my hands. Crap!

Because we found that cat as a wee tiny, we had to wait to have him vaccinated and then were given another even tiny tinier kitty, I had decided to wait until she was old enough to be spayed to take them both in to get shots and their junk wacked. That time is just about now, so I shall be making an appointment Monday for the both of them, as our 10-day waiting period is about to pass.

I called the 24- hour UT nurse line to ask them what I needed to do considering it looked like I might need a rabies shot. Typically, one could get infected with a bite (and we have seen skunks, armadillos, possums, and squirrels that the cat could have tousled with all at our house), but it is getting the animal's saliva in the blood that can cause a problem. Since, I had the kitty's saliva on my hand (ew- the wet stuff I felt petting him), when he scratched my hand fairly badly in two places, I figured I was at risk, and so did the nurse.

She informed me that I needed to act quickly, but not instantly and should come into the health center when it opened in the morning. By now, it's 3:30AM. I woke Mr. Bee to tell him what happened, to which he muttered a bunch of "Fucks." To have to miss work on the first day of the kids' break he was none to pleased about.

I called animal control, but they weren't open and a city phone line lady told me that the city wouldn't do anything about a rabid cat on the loose. Frankly, I think she didn't know what she was talking about, though I never quite found out for sure. I'd just gotten the number to the health department, which was going to open in three minutes, when The Future President- who claims official ownership of said cuteness- reported that he was at the front door looking normal.

When I'd put him out earlier, he was doing a strange wandering thing and after I'd woken Mr. Bee, he and I heard the cat let out a gawd-awful screech as though he were in a fight or getting eaten by a coyote. Oh yeah, we have those around too. The kitty, which annoyingly has a people name I have not been quick to reveal in this, Isaac. There I said it. Some of you may know from here that that is one of my pet peeves..., when pets have "people names," or at least when my pets have people names. But, The Future President named it one of her friends' names, so what could I do? What could I do? I got all choked up, and I called him my son .... Ok, ok. I love breaking off into Johnny Cash when I use that phrase.

Anyho, Isaac was back and he was purring like he was not the night before. He seemed to not be confused and wandering as he was the night before, and I wasn't sure what to do here. It didn't seem reasonable that he would be in the grippes of last-stage rabies and then just be fine, so I called my aunt, who, fortunately, is a vet in Arkansas.

She agreed with my assesssment, but said I should take him somewhere, just in case. After we talked for a bit, and I expressed a strong desire not to have him killed when rabies did not seem so likely, she told me what they would do at her clinic in that case. They would keep the animal in a cage for observation and see what its condition was after 10 days.

Great! We have a big rabbit cage and put Isaac in it in our living room, so that, if he had to be entrapped, he could at least meow incessantly at people who cared about him. My aunt said if he acted normal for ten days, then he was going to be fine, but that she didn't know about the people's health side of things. I would have to find that out elsewhere.

When I put him in the cage, I noticed that he smelled very, very strongly of cinnamon or some such other sickeningly sweet Christmas smell. Ahhh, did he get into something? She had said that or losing a tooth could cause a foaminess and pain in his age cat, as well. Online, I saw that though doctors want folks to get the gabba globulin shot right away, it can be done later and the rabies shot has a two week window, so I decided to wait a bit.

An hour later, I discovered that The Genius's visitor friend's shirt smelled the very same way, like some stinky-ass potporri. But, why? We don't have anything like that. I washed his shirt and found out that he'd held the cat the night before and that may be why his shirt smelled like the cat. Fortunately, we did not poison anyone else's kids, and his parents knew nothing of the smell, so we still don't know where it came from.

I let my kids know about the smell and they smelled it every once in a while and we still have no idea what it was, though the neighbor's dog which comes and visits was reported to smell of cinnamon the other day as well. It doesn't lick itself though, like our cat does.

After four days, I talked to my aunt and we concluded that with no other sign or symptom, that the cat had a bout of ingesting something that made it sick, and was safe to let go. Now, it's been ten days and I am very glad I did not take him to be unecessarily decapitated, though I certainly would have to save my life if I'd thought it necessary.

So, the point. Oh, Mr. Bee had to call in "My wife probably has rabies," that day, but then, 30 minutes later, called back and said, "It's all good. I'll be in." Oh, the humanity.

We had another thing he almost had to call in about, though it is quite personal re: my own health. The Vaginal Episode of '08. Maybe it'll be another post. Maybe not, but I did want to let you know we survived The Great Rabies Scare and I'll be taking my cats in to the vet this week to get their naughty bits altered. Maybe their Festivus Catnip mouse will get them through. The lucky bastards.


Cormac Brown said...

This was easily the most dramatic thing I've read in the past week and no, I don't mean that because it is Sunday. I mean in the past seven days and where Issac getting the potpourri stash?

"The people Mr. Bee works with are Republican nutjobs"

Ah, yeah, their buddy Sarah "Hockey Lipstick Pitbull Mom" works, do they think she should stay at home too?

Comrade Kevin said...

I was waiting for you to go have to take the cat and shoot it in the backyard, with dramatic music playing in the background.

Mauigirl said...

Wow, some story. Glad Isaac didn't have to have his head chopped off. One must never be too hasty about these things I guess!

LOL about "I can't come in to work because my wife probably has rabies."

There are a bunch of things that can cause cats to react badly. I had some dried eucalyptus in a vase and the cat we had at the time sniffed it and got high and ran around the house and then fell asleep. He was OK but I looked it up on line and found out that if he had eaten it he might have had convulsions and neurological problems or even died! Naturally I threw the stuff out after I read THAT.

I am always amazed at the things that we usually think of as harmless which can harm our pets. Chocolate...even onions. So maybe there is something in potpourri or whatever it was that got to your cat. Glad he's OK now and will get his naughty bits amputated shortly! ;-)

Utah Savage said...

Well, I'm here to tell you that I plan to write a post about MY uterus because of the question you asked me in your last posts comment thread, and Lib's response to my comment and your question. It struck a chord that needs to sing out, speaking of Johnny Cash. So I really stopped by to steal your http thingy so I could link you. If this is a problem, well email me, or answer me here, or come see me at my place. Which is a bore at the moment, but anyway...

Sorry about Isaac, a name I think is perfectly proper for a cat, but that's my pet peeve, people who don't name there pets people names. Just kidding.

Liberality said...

Our dog, Roxy the half bull mastiff and supreme guard dog extraordinaire, ate an entire box of chocolate that we were planning on giving to someone before Xmas. It was a 3lb box of chocolate so she got really sick. I was out visiting friends and acting like I had a real life outside of home and work--my bad! So the next morning we took the dog to the vet and got a lovely bill for $105 for our efforts. Dog threw up 5 times and was then fine. Hope your kitty doesn't get into anything else.

Anonymous said...

Your life is never boring. Never. Thank goodness.

Randal Graves said...

Dude, don't bogart all the potpourri. I'm glad you don't have rabies and therefore won't have to be decapitated because that would mean blogging would be difficult unless you mastered that disembodied thing.

Romius T. said...

I once got bit by a german sheppard whn I was 7. The dog was nuts and most were sure I needed rabies shots. They decapitaed the dog. For some reason my parents asked me if I wanted the dog decapitated to find out if I needed to get rabies shots. I remember being like "cool" yeah go for it. The dog turned out to be ok, just mean. I did not get the rabies and one mean ass dog is loius xvi'ed because of me....heheh.

Anonymous said...

Good lord, woman! I would like to see you, with or without your rabies. I am waiting for S. to get home so I will know what our plans are for the week. WE MUST GET TOGETHER!

dguzman said...

Holy shit, this is like an Academy Award-worthy post.

I'm calling in with rabies tomorrow.

Tengrain said...

I cannot top it.



pidomon said...

glad Isaac will be around in 09 naughty bits or not