Wherein The Apiary Becomes the Hotel California

So, the long and short of it is that Rox is a very senior cat, who should be turning 17 this June. And, as happens in senior cats, she is at Stage 2 Kidney Disease. We got blood results back today that say the prescription food that we are torturing (her words, not mine) her with is working, and the proteins in her bloodstream have gone down dramatically.

This is great news, but I understand the reality that we are buying time. Hopefully, very comfortable, happy, and loving time, but time. At some point, everyone – you, me, the dog next door, and yes, even Roxie – will shrug off the chains of mortality and become a different type of energy in the Universe.

But at least I get more of it with the Tabby Terror.

As I was talking with our vet about treatment options and care — over Roxie’s stoned-out-of-her-gourd body on the exam table, mind you — she paused, turned over an idea and very carefully slid it across to me.

“And look…this is an option…and I only recommend it because I’ve had very angry pet parents ask my why I didn’t bring them every possible option for treatment for kidney disease, but there are transplants for cats.”

Okay; I’ll bite. How does that work?

Well, gentle friends, it works by adopting some unsuspecting cat to reenact an urban legend upon, and then give that kidney to Roxie. Thereby, two cats and only two working kidneys.

To say my reaction was visceral might be an understatement, “That’s fucking ghoulish!”

The vet’s relief to my reaction was palpable. Roxie, however, informed us she could hear colors from the gabapentin I’d given her.

The Pussmas Season is Upon Us

For the first time in eons, I was at the gym, and I went before work, so I’m on the arc trainer at 6:00 in the morning, watching the news. As it happens, the entire East Side of Cleveland dealt with the first real seasonal Snowmageddon. And as we all know, everyone forgets how to drive when that happens, so I thought that prudence was the best course, and I opted out of my commute into Beachwood and am working from home today.

Picture of the abject highway hell that MomZ sent to Binkles and I this morning.

Right now, I’m just working on the habit of working out before work, so the fact that I am getting there and getting on the arc trainer for 30 minutes is achievement enough for right now. We’ll work on integrating strength training into the routine once I actually get a routine.

So, since it’s been a jillion years, I’ll just include a short list of some of the stuff going on right now.

  • There are not going to be any Rox-themed Pussmas cards this year. I tried, tried, tried to get something economical and speedy ordered today, but those standards are mutually exclusive. As much as I love doing the cards, and love sending them out, I’m not spending $6 gazillion dollars on Pussmas Cards.

Here. Merry Pussmas.

  • This year, Charlie and I are making the Annual Sojourn Down for Yule. I think this makes it our 14th year? We’ve been going since we’ve been dating, which we started doing in 2002, so that would be 14 years.
  • I am heading down tomorrow, for work, as the company’s web development team is located in German Village. So, I’m heading down there to learn the website roped, eat at Katzinger’s, and then go out to dinner with Mandy. Charlie is coming down right after work, so I’m not sure what he’s going to do Friday night, but it’ll be nice to have him down there. We have mostly all day on Saturday free, so we’ll probably do out brunch/short North shopping on Saturday before dinner.
  • (On Sunday, I have to rush back up to Twinsburg for Tams’ Friendsgiving celebration. I’m doing the rushing with a  joyful heart, though.)
  • Am  I a total jerk for being a teeny, tiny bit glad that we’re taking separate cars down to Columbus and back? The Zedricks have a tough time traveling together in cars.
  • I’m headed to Miss Lys’ last Balance & Brews yoga session of the year, and I looked for a pair of Christmas leggings to wear. So, let’s revisit the Pussmas cards, and see that I’m late to the party and nothing will arrive before the date, despite Amazon Prime. I’m super on top of things.
  • Has anyone else seen the PNC Bank “12 Days of Christmas Consumer Price Index”? Why the hell are swans so expensive? Just bleach a Canada Goose and call it a day. No one’s going to know the difference: they both suck.
  • I’m thinking about this while I’m sitting in my home office. Now that we have the Red Sled, the plan is still for me to go to IKEA and get the Kallax bookshelves and try to make this office something worth working in, rather than a terrible catch-all-room-and-kind-of-office. Of course, like a basic bitch, I’ve made a Pinterest Inspiration Boad about it.

NaBloPoMo’13: Day 1, No Fancy Title

We might as well give this a go; it’s been fun in the past, and I see no reason not to continue it.  Though this year, again, I’ll not be registering my name in the annals, so I’m not “competing” for any prize.

I missed Trick-or-Treaters last night. I thought Charlie wouldn’t be home, working on Assistant Band Director Stuff, so I made plans to have dinner at my parents house. I was mistaken, but I still kept my plans, and Charlie painted the front door and passed out candy. We got 26 Trick-or-Treaters, which is far greater than the 0 my parents got, and the 2 Charlie got last year in his apartment complex. But it was way, way less than the anecdotal 200 a colleague told me she got.

The text I got from Charlie to go with this photo: "Trick-or-Tabby is minding the front door."
The text I got from Charlie to go with this photo: “Trick-or-Tabby is minding the front door.”

On slate for this month is the usual for November: general onset of inclement weather, progression towards the holidays, Thanksgiving, my quitting-smoking anniversary. On the schedule short-term that is different this year is that tomorrow, I’ll be attending a good friend’s wedding shower. I’m looking forward to it.

So there you go. A decent kick off to this month’s NaBloPoMo.