Well I have been extremely slack with my blogging so now I have a fairly massive catchup to do.
Firstly at the start of the QLD school hollidays Mon (girlfriend), Moe (her son) and I went to Maggie Island for a few days. Weather was as perfect as it gets in Downsville, water was clear and only a couple of degrees too cool for perfection. The fish were biting so much that more time was spent hauling them in than dangling the line in the water (only slight exageration). Sleeping on a verandah covered by a mosquito net was bliss. Though the first night I was awakened to a scream from Mon as she kicked a possum off her leg onto me, only slight scratches on my foot as a result of this though.
The only thing really marred the trip was that my cat Worf - those of you who don't know him may be familliar with his offspring: Printy and Manson - had gone missing a few days before we left. As it is in the nature of cats to occasionaly dissapeat I was only moderately worried. This worry however increased every day of the three weeks that he was missing. He eventually turned up nineteen days almost to the minute after I had last seen him.
He came in limping and so thin that it was aparrent that he probably had not eaten for the entire time he hade been away. His leg was also giving him a lot of trouble and he had very little strength. The next morning I took him to the vets and had an anxious day at the zoo. Mind you I was also so happy that He was back that I didn't even terrrorize the children at all. Mostly spent my time covering new Tintin books.
On returning to the vet I was told that he had torn all of the ligaments in the knee of his left hind leg and the femur had slid down behind the lower leg. The injury dated from when he had first vannished and even now I have no idea what happened or where he was.
The options were reconstructive surgery whigh had a very good chance of failure or amputation at the hip. Now a normal person when confronted with the not particularly graphic descriopins given by the vet would have coped fine. Unfortunately I am the sort of person who when conversations turn to gruesome injuries (you know the sort of one-upmanship that happens in those) slopes off to put his head between hi knees ant tries not to be sick. Standing there talking to the (young and quite pretty) vet I start to feel myself going into shock, eventually I pull up a chair and sag into it. To cut a long story short I end up on the floor shaking and clammy trying not to faint or throw up. Vet then brings in Worf to comfort me when it should have been me comforting him.
Eventually decide on the amputation as it seems the least traumatic option. Then it's two weeks of intensive spoiling to get him into a fit enough condition to survive the operation. First couple of days we're inseperable. Every time I get up to do something he follows be despite the obvious pain it causes him. After that he pretty much stayed in one spot except when eating or drinking.
The operation was yesterday. All went smoothly. He was groggy and antisocial when Mon and I picked him up. With the additional humiliation of having to wear one of those cone things on his head and having his entire rear left side shaved. The scar is surprisingly small. On returning home he immediately shakes off his wooziness and showing amazing adaptation sprints outside. Whereapon he sprints up the stairs of the flat above and leaps for the little gap a few feet from the stairs where he likes to hide sometimes. This is where his plan and indeed himself falls down. One leg and anesthesia throw off his aim and distance so he hits the wall and falls two metres to the ground on his side. Surprisingly enough this traumatised him less than it did me.
How he has set himself up in a cranny under a coffee table in my bedroom punnishing me for the betrayal of taking him to the vet and getting his leg chopped off. Only ate for the first time a few minutes ago.
Other stuff has hppened in this time period as well. In no particular order these were: Pushed my luck with Mon and Moe by pretending to back the Tigers in the Finals (like I could give a toss about sport). Got a computer virus which savaged my system and required a complete reinstall of XP. Pushed my luck again by using Mon's shitzu Chester as a hand towel after eating Mulberies from her tree (the top of his head is now purple). Abandoned worf for an evening to see Serenity (It was great). Probably other stuff too but I can't seem to recall anything worth mentioning at the moment.
Firstly at the start of the QLD school hollidays Mon (girlfriend), Moe (her son) and I went to Maggie Island for a few days. Weather was as perfect as it gets in Downsville, water was clear and only a couple of degrees too cool for perfection. The fish were biting so much that more time was spent hauling them in than dangling the line in the water (only slight exageration). Sleeping on a verandah covered by a mosquito net was bliss. Though the first night I was awakened to a scream from Mon as she kicked a possum off her leg onto me, only slight scratches on my foot as a result of this though.
The only thing really marred the trip was that my cat Worf - those of you who don't know him may be familliar with his offspring: Printy and Manson - had gone missing a few days before we left. As it is in the nature of cats to occasionaly dissapeat I was only moderately worried. This worry however increased every day of the three weeks that he was missing. He eventually turned up nineteen days almost to the minute after I had last seen him.
He came in limping and so thin that it was aparrent that he probably had not eaten for the entire time he hade been away. His leg was also giving him a lot of trouble and he had very little strength. The next morning I took him to the vets and had an anxious day at the zoo. Mind you I was also so happy that He was back that I didn't even terrrorize the children at all. Mostly spent my time covering new Tintin books.
On returning to the vet I was told that he had torn all of the ligaments in the knee of his left hind leg and the femur had slid down behind the lower leg. The injury dated from when he had first vannished and even now I have no idea what happened or where he was.
The options were reconstructive surgery whigh had a very good chance of failure or amputation at the hip. Now a normal person when confronted with the not particularly graphic descriopins given by the vet would have coped fine. Unfortunately I am the sort of person who when conversations turn to gruesome injuries (you know the sort of one-upmanship that happens in those) slopes off to put his head between hi knees ant tries not to be sick. Standing there talking to the (young and quite pretty) vet I start to feel myself going into shock, eventually I pull up a chair and sag into it. To cut a long story short I end up on the floor shaking and clammy trying not to faint or throw up. Vet then brings in Worf to comfort me when it should have been me comforting him.
Eventually decide on the amputation as it seems the least traumatic option. Then it's two weeks of intensive spoiling to get him into a fit enough condition to survive the operation. First couple of days we're inseperable. Every time I get up to do something he follows be despite the obvious pain it causes him. After that he pretty much stayed in one spot except when eating or drinking.
The operation was yesterday. All went smoothly. He was groggy and antisocial when Mon and I picked him up. With the additional humiliation of having to wear one of those cone things on his head and having his entire rear left side shaved. The scar is surprisingly small. On returning home he immediately shakes off his wooziness and showing amazing adaptation sprints outside. Whereapon he sprints up the stairs of the flat above and leaps for the little gap a few feet from the stairs where he likes to hide sometimes. This is where his plan and indeed himself falls down. One leg and anesthesia throw off his aim and distance so he hits the wall and falls two metres to the ground on his side. Surprisingly enough this traumatised him less than it did me.
How he has set himself up in a cranny under a coffee table in my bedroom punnishing me for the betrayal of taking him to the vet and getting his leg chopped off. Only ate for the first time a few minutes ago.
Other stuff has hppened in this time period as well. In no particular order these were: Pushed my luck with Mon and Moe by pretending to back the Tigers in the Finals (like I could give a toss about sport). Got a computer virus which savaged my system and required a complete reinstall of XP. Pushed my luck again by using Mon's shitzu Chester as a hand towel after eating Mulberies from her tree (the top of his head is now purple). Abandoned worf for an evening to see Serenity (It was great). Probably other stuff too but I can't seem to recall anything worth mentioning at the moment.
posted by antiChris | 1:32 PM
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