![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Update of the day
Yes, I’ve been a bit quiet for the last few days. I’ve been having a tough time.
Basically, 2020 can fuck right off, and I want to move to 2021 without any delays.
First Patrick died (see the entry on that), then I have a flood into my kitchen from the flat above. On the same day as that happened, unconnectedly my fridge-freezer dies the death of all electric objects. Then the kitty costs me £150 in vets bills.
A new fridge-freezer has been bought and delivered, which is fine, but it’s not as nice as the one it’s replaced. I couldn’t afford such a good one this time, and I’m looking at the new one a bit suspiciously. It also has blue lighting inside, which makes me go ‘tilt’, as I can see no good reason for a fridge to be lit up in blue.
The story about the kitty, is that on Friday I had chicken Kiev for my tea. Real chicken Kiev comes with a bone. I put my empty plate aside when I’d finished, and watched a couple of TV programmes, and then turned the TV off and fell asleep. When I woke up the bone from the Kiev had gone.
I looked around the flat and couldn’t find it. Not anywhere. The logical answer was that it was inside the cat, and I’ve always understood that a cat eating cooked bones is a veterinary emergency. At this stage it was midnight. I rang the 24 hours vet hospital and they said bring her in, so I packed her into her travelling basket and took her to the vet hospital. I was told by them that they couldn’t feel anything, but I was to watch her for the next 48-72 hours and if she was being sick or not pooping I was to bring her back. OK. Cost for this advice, £150. It was midnight, but still, ouch.
Comforted, I took Smokey home in her basket. I let her out when we got back to the flat and then next thing you know?
I stood on the bone, which was hidden in the pattern of the carpet.
Then I said words, many of them beginning with ‘f’.
I love my cat, but I’m currently addressing her as ‘expensive hobby’.
Basically, 2020 can fuck right off, and I want to move to 2021 without any delays.
First Patrick died (see the entry on that), then I have a flood into my kitchen from the flat above. On the same day as that happened, unconnectedly my fridge-freezer dies the death of all electric objects. Then the kitty costs me £150 in vets bills.
A new fridge-freezer has been bought and delivered, which is fine, but it’s not as nice as the one it’s replaced. I couldn’t afford such a good one this time, and I’m looking at the new one a bit suspiciously. It also has blue lighting inside, which makes me go ‘tilt’, as I can see no good reason for a fridge to be lit up in blue.
The story about the kitty, is that on Friday I had chicken Kiev for my tea. Real chicken Kiev comes with a bone. I put my empty plate aside when I’d finished, and watched a couple of TV programmes, and then turned the TV off and fell asleep. When I woke up the bone from the Kiev had gone.
I looked around the flat and couldn’t find it. Not anywhere. The logical answer was that it was inside the cat, and I’ve always understood that a cat eating cooked bones is a veterinary emergency. At this stage it was midnight. I rang the 24 hours vet hospital and they said bring her in, so I packed her into her travelling basket and took her to the vet hospital. I was told by them that they couldn’t feel anything, but I was to watch her for the next 48-72 hours and if she was being sick or not pooping I was to bring her back. OK. Cost for this advice, £150. It was midnight, but still, ouch.
Comforted, I took Smokey home in her basket. I let her out when we got back to the flat and then next thing you know?
I stood on the bone, which was hidden in the pattern of the carpet.
Then I said words, many of them beginning with ‘f’.
I love my cat, but I’m currently addressing her as ‘expensive hobby’.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
(Always good to hear that a kitty is OK, though.)
no subject
no subject
Very happy to hear Smokey did not indulge in chicken bone - and isn't that the way of things, you find the bone almost immediately on returning home. (I have a black cat who needs to have ongoing medication to avoid bladder stones - and to avoid surgery - all of which is costly. I call her a luxury item.)
Those 24 hour vets charge a fortune, I've learned from sad experience.
Blue light in a fridge? Doesn't that make the food look off?
no subject