Welcome to Shitsville

It was so quiet here yesterday. The "boys," all four of them, were hanging out in the living room, while the three girls were in the quarantine room. No one was fighting or getting under foot. I could even walk from my office to the kitchen without tripping over a cat. In a way, it was nice, but kinda creepy, too.

Last night none of the cats came upstairs to sleep with us. I called out to Spencer, since he usually sleeps with me. If I call, he'll run like the dickens up two flights of stairs and bounce into bed with me. Not last night. He didn't bother to come up until almost dawn.

While I had the luxury of not falling asleep in a pretzel shape and waking up with a backache, I also felt very alone. I can't say I liked the feeling much.

I thought about life six years ago. I only had two cats and one foster cat (Spencer). My furnishings hadn't been destroyed by cat urine and I had money in the bank because my pet food bill was less than my grocery bill. I didn't realize it at the time, but the house really felt way too big. A few cats can't hog a bed or drive me insane when they're hungry. They're so easy to feed and have play time with when you have less than four. I must have had a lot more free time, too. Where did it all go?

Now I'm trying to get Christmas related tasks done so I can go back to work tomorrow and not be angry that I don't have any free time to get more Christmas related tasks (e.g., shopping) done. But, everything feels like wading through knee-deep shit. I'm so scared Bob is getting sick. Nicky sneezes and I wonder if he's next. Nora is so sick, I worry she will never recover. She's a nightmare to medicate and coughs and violently heaves, long stringy mucusy snots once I get the Baytril into her.

Petunia freaks out, too. She only gets 1.4cc of antibiotics. It would take a second to give it to her, but she has to be wrapped like a mummy in a towel and won't hold still while I give her the meds. Once she gets them she runs off upset. It upsets me, too. I don't want to distress her, but I've gotta do this. I'm tired and frustrated. Sam is tired and frustrated. We are both pissed at each other and this situation.

We don't know if we should start Bob on meds. If he's sick now, which I think he is, he may be fine in a few more days with no meds. He may be brewing a bacterial something and if we medicated him now, it would kick it in the ass. If we give him meds he doesn't need, the antibiotics would open him up to other things the antibiotic doesn't treat and he could get sick with something worse.

Oh yeah, and this is Day TWO of meds.

Eight more days to go.

Merry #@!!&$#@ Christmas.

...Oh yeah...and we have a mouse running around our living room and our only mousers are in quarantine. I fear the news is going to get out and more mice are going to come in.