|
5 january 2001 |
wilma recovers
Hey everyone! Check out the new link today, fengi.com. Greg has this rippin' new gallery of weird found stuff. Plus his site is just cool. Go! Go! Uuugh, what a day yesterday. And what a night. I practiced restraint and only called the vet once to see how she was; they said, "fine". But the minute I got out of work, I skedaddled on down there to get my little girl. Oooh, she looked perplexed. She knew something was up, and it didn't feel good. So she made noise. Wilma felt pretty darn touchy yesterday, with good reason. Every touch, every movement, was a fairly unwelcome one. Plus, when the vet showed me her little sutures, well let's just say that they had to sit me down for a moment. "You sure you can drive with all the color drained from your head like that?" Did I have a choice? We got home, and Wilma was a sight. Because they had to cut through her little abdominal muscles to get to the...stuff, she had a difficult time balancing. So she would sit and ponder her belly, occasionally licking the now-hairless void, and looking at me like, "something's missing here." Sometimes she would quietly yowl, and sometimes moan. I wasn't allowed to give painkillers until today. So I gave her some food. Then, because she couldn't jump onto anything, I made a bed for both of us on the floor and we cuddled up for a quiet evening of tv and head-scratching. We snoozed off and on until my bedtime, when I put a couple of boxes and a chair next to the bed so Wilma could climb in more comfortably. She crawled right next to my head, laid her head on the pillow, and sacked out. I had an odd dream last night, that I had gone to Louisiana with Wilma. Somehow, she got away from me and all I could do was walk through town calling her name. The unusual thing was, dozens of people had also lost their cats and were doing the same thing. It was a town filled with people calling out for their kittens, and I was starting to lose all hope. Toward the end of the dream, we came upon a lake where dozens of cats were playing on the banks. Some people recognized theirs and called out, but the cats looked at them aloofly and continued playing. I still couldn't see Wilma. One last time, I called her name. From a clump of bushes, I saw a little gray tabby in Wayfarer sunglasses (don't ask; my dreams go like this) dart toward me so fast that she knocked me down. She licked my nose, and we went home. This morning about 4:00, I awoke to more nose-licking. It seems that Wilma has momentarily forgiven me. We will spend the weekend learning to balance again. |