I took my cats to the VCA Fort Collins Animal Hospital; home of a friendly staff and moving dust. As part of their annual checkup, these folks do blood work and urinalysis in addition to the shots, the physical exam, and the great poo float (if one remembers to bring in poo samples!).

As it happens, the blood work was just too much for my little ones. The vet tech took each cat, one at a time, to “the back” to perform the extraction. To make a long story short, the process scared and pissed off both cats. They had such a rough time with the rest of the exam (hissing, swatting, biting, screaming) that the vet and the techs weren’t able to finish it! In an unusual mood, Max took to biting, hissing at, and attacking everything (before falling into the trash bin) — including the vet, her sister Alex — but, excluding me. I was apparently the only one who could calm her down. (I feel so loved.)

I left the cats at the vet to calm down (and so they could finish the exam!) and proceeded to work (by way of home to pick up a second carrier and a new shirt). I picked up the little ones 2 hours later and drove them home to a symphony of sad meows. I decided to stay home to supervise, just in case Max was still having violent tendencies.

I’m happy to report that no cat-on-cat confrontation has occurred, though Max is holding a pretty significant grudge at the moment. I think it’ll be a while before she forgives me. But hey, at least they’re healthy (pending results of the blood work)!

Note to self: rent moving truck, find cat friendly hotel, and get plane ticket for Myles.

No big deal. I can handle it. I hope.

Speaking of cats, this brings me to a trick I’ve been meaning to try. In the past, whenever I’ve taken the cats to the vet, I’ve had a dickens of a time getting them into their carrier. They know what it looks like, they know that it means a nauseating 15 minute ride in darkness, and they know that it will most likely involve some sort of anal probing. Suffice it to say, they hate it.

Knowing the only safe way to transport them to my new place in Colorado will mean their temporary incarceration in their carrier, I will have to change their minds.

Idea #1: recast the cat carrier as a haven of safety instead of a cold plastic transport to an anal thermometer. To this end, I tucked the carrier behind the recliner, padded it with old clothes, topped it with pillows to create darkness and seclusion, and left it to be explored on my cats’ terms.

So far, it seems to be working. Almost immediately, Max and Alex checked out freshly remodeled cat carrier and even poked around in it a bit. Several days later, it’s become a regular napping ground for Alex; in fact, she (if you have forgotten, her name is short for Alexandra) picks that spot to nap whenever I’m watching TV. I think I’ve even caught Max(ine) and Alex sharing a few zzz’s in there together.

So far so good. When I do finally move, I hope this will lull them into a false sense of security when I unceremoniously deposit them in their box and haul their cute little butts across the country.

For some personal news…

Had an abbreviated work schedule (44-48hr/wk) for the last few weeks so I could hang out with Sarah (and one week where I was sick). I’m back up to a moderate-heavy schedule (48-52hr/wk). If I work 10 hours again tomorrow, as it appears to be the norm – I’ll hit 54 hours.. — definitely a far cry from 60-80 for some software engineers, but plenty for me. Work kept me late again tonight, so I had to rush home to insulize the cat — good thing Sarah gets back tomorrow.

Sarah is in Ohio. She’s been there since last Friday and she’s coming back tomorrow. I understand she’s having a blast.

Alex has demanded lap time. Silly cat. I think she misses having at least one human around during the day.

Been reading ‘A Salmon of Doubt’ — I recommend it.

Going to Joe and Kristen’s wedding in a week and a half. Should be fun. There will be a Spikes trip involved – something I’ve missed dearly. Maybe David and I should get smashed and come back Sunday.

David moved to Fresno. Mad props.

(Notice how this is getting to be less and less about me? 180 time…)

Got to drive Sarah’s parents’ Prius. That was a fun experience. The car feels a lot lighter than my Mazda and the break is a fair bit touchier. What really got me was the eerie silence and lack of vibration when you start moving from a complete stop. I don’t “feel” the vibration or “hear” the noise in my Mazda, but I certainly do notice when it’s missing.

I got honked at by some lame-o driver as I was riding home. Apparently she never read her driver handbook about how to interact with bicylists sharing the road. Makes me wish I had the power to mandate driver training for conspicuously bad drivers. Hmm… no it doesn’t.

Back on IRC. I’m calling it a trial basis. You can find me on EsperNet again.

That’s it. I’m updated.

Now – GO TO THE SOAPBOX.

My poor little terrorists had to go without dad-cat for the day. I’m sure that depressed them greatly.

Anyway, I’m dying of a stomach collapsing in on itself. Time for food.

If I walk up to them while they’re being mischevious, they scoot — fast. Case in point: cats were wrestling each other on the chair next to my closet door. I am walking – rapidly – to the closet, to get some warmth for the goings out in a few minutes. Max looks up, stops what she’s doing, and jumps on the bed en route to the floor to escape. Alex is a little slow about it… she eventually figures out that she should probably get a-scootin’ and promptly jumps right into the wall.

Sort of a mid-air ballerina that one. She made quite the jump, until her forward momentum came to an abrupt stop – at the wall. It was the funniest thing I’ve seen all day.

However, cute and intelligence don’t always follow. Case in point: in rapid-succession litter box use, Alex stepped in a fresh pile of her own brown gooeyness prior to a total failure to bury it. Next up was Max, who promptly buried her own head in the hole she dug for her own poo. She exited with a litter glaze over her forehead. Thank God for the litter box door, which brushed most of it off.

For those who know about today’s colorful gastrointestinal findings, both cats produced normal fecal matter this time around. Dunno what that other stuff was.

I drove around 900 miles this Christmas driving around the state, with stops in Carmichael, Walnut Creek, Moraga, Fresno, and San Luis Obispo (well, to start and stop the trip ). I am thinking about going to Riverside either tonight or tomorrow to do New Years with David and avoid storminess.

Mom made a pretty killer Indonesian dinner, as she usually does on Christmas-eve. The chips and coconut rice were very tasty. I liked the fish too, but not as much as Mom and Dad seemed to.

Loot:
My cats got a sweet 5 foot cat tree for Christmas – which is unfortunately too large for my car (barely) and for Paul’s car (thanks Paul for trying). Unless someone who is well-endowed vehicularly wants to bring it to me, I think my cats will have to do with out it until I move again (after I graduate).

I got a few cool things (highlights here only, this is not a comprehensive list): West Wing season 5, Stargate Atlantis season 1, floor mats for my Mazda, socks, a blob of marzipan (mmm), a pillow (my new favorite), a Python book, and some music.

I’m tired of writing now I wanted to write a small expose on my feelings towards video games. I think that’d take too much time, and I don’t think anyone cares anyway.

I brought the little ones home from surgery last night at about 16:30 and reintroduced them to their room and my closet. I put a little food in their bowls and put a few ice cubes into the water fountain. They nibbled a bit and started batting around a few toys on the floor. They looked pretty dazed from the anesthesia and healing. I ultimately let them out into the main part of my bedroom where they promptly found my bed and started shuffling around. I got in with them a little later (after I had some dinner) and soon found two kittens cuddled up against me. I quickly dozed off myself…

We all woke up again shortly when my phone rang. This gave me some ample opportunity to brush my teeth, check my email, and give the kittens their pain medication.

As I write this, Max came up and plopped herself in my lap and went to sleep.

I wonder why getting a cat spayed is often referred to as “getting fixed.” To me, to ‘fix’ something, you are repairing it – returning it to its normal state of operation. In the strictest sense, the surgeon removed components from these little ones such that their normal reproductive behavior is forever removed. They essentially ‘broke’ the reproductive capability of my little one. Oh well, English is a weird language. I think the more appropriate term is “altered” such that it means “surgically sterilized.” Makes more sense to me.

This message is for Myles: By this point, you have inevitably looked up the word ‘fixed’ on dictionary.com and are fully prepared to write a smartass comment about it. I thus pre-emptively state that I have already done this, and am aware of definition #9. It’s stupid and belies the spirit of the word.

At this point, Alex has just joined Max in my lap. She is somewhat precariously positioned and might fall off if I move the mouse.

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