...the bubbling hormones recede long enough to take a breath, look around and appraise your own life with a fairly clear eye.

Once in awhile, you get to work from home with your laid-off-but-making-a-new-go-of-it-fiancè. You get your work done before 6pm and you have time to make a simple dinner together.

Once in awhile, you realize things are basically okay. Nothing big is happening, but nothing bad, too. Take another breath. You get to do that, too. You get this day; this simple, no big deal, day that feels like the best day of your life, so far.

...and once in awhile, you realize, you sure have a lot of cats and that sure is a wonderful feeling.

I have no idea!

I could also answer; "You don't-you wait a few days, THEN try it!"

But no. I'm so goal-oriented I just HAD to get it done or else I'd fail myself or Gracie or, who knows what? It's stupid. I'm still crabby from PMS, plus I had a bad day at work, plus my computer is now giving me headaches with strange PostScript errors on some of my photos (which were ruined). Nice. Maybe I have a good reason to be in a bad mood? That's why I HATE PMS because you're NEVER sure...

"Am I NUTS or is it fueled by hormones or BOTH?"

Oh yeah, Gracie had a bath. Sam and I took turns washing her and she didn't even try to kill us-even a little bite through the hand. Nothing! She just shivered and looked sad. I will add, that I did set up the area before we tried to bathe her and I talked to Sam about how we should proceed, step by step. He agreed (how could he say; "No!" with the threat of PMS about to take hold of his man-bits? Literally and figuratively?).

I also worked VERY hard to keep myself calm and to be calm and relaxed with Gracie, even though I felt like screaming my brains out and punching everyone in sight.

After adding the shampoo to Gracie's coat, I had to let it sit on her skin, while she continued to shiver, for 7 LONG minutes. We got her rinsed and into two thick blankets. I brought her up to the bedroom where the space heater was on full blast. I gave her some tuna water as a treat and I brushed her, which, well Gracie is a brush-whore, so she loved that, too. Within a few minutes she was relaxed and content. We left her alone and returned to the kitchen to clean up the mess.

I was very glad things went well. No shots fired. No yelling. Nothing. I kept whatever insane thoughts I had to myself. I just wanted to be alone now. I successfully performed my task. I need to go to my cave and sit quietly until this month's psychosis passes. Of course it didn't work out that way because Sam felt he needed to praise me for not being a psycho. I felt like I was a little girl. I was waiting for a cookie, but I didn't get one. If only he could have read my mind right then and there, he might have just slowly left the room, maybe even backed out of it. I grit my teeth and nodded.

"Yes, it went well, Sam. Everything is fine and there is peace throughout the land."

"Now get away from me before I smash you in the face!"

Hey, I never said I was perfect!

I couldn't put it off any longer. I had to get Gracie back to see Dr. Larry for a re-check. I also had to face him for the first time since he read "that BLOG entry" I wrote about him two weeks ago...yeah, the one where I said; "I love you, Dr. Larry!"

I can't even blame hormones because THOSE things are bubbling up right NOW, which is why this post may either not make sense, or just end without warning. I'm so friggen' cranky right now, it's amazing that the worst thing I did was whine briefly when Sam called me, then had the nerve to ask if he knew if when I placed a phone order at the local burger place, if he picked up the order based on giving them his name or our phone number and I loudly whined; "I DON'T KNOW!!!!!!" Lucky for him, he just shut up and quietly hung up the phone. I placed the stupid order for the stupid food and I warned the girl who took my order that a guy would be coming to pick up an order and he would look confused and that would be Sam and to give him our order. Oops..now Sam is going to read this. Tough! I have PMS! Back off!

But I digress...

Poor little Gracie. Her lovely coat still looks shabby, though her shaved parts are beginning to show a re-growth of fur. Her head, neck and shoulders are the worst areas. If you were to run your hand along her head, you'd feel a bumpy crust that clusters in lumps (say that five times fast... bumpy crust that clusters in lumps...hmmm). It's been three weeks since I removed the bedroom rug to see if that would have any impact on her health. It seems to have made a difference.

But first, I have to bitch again. I had to wait for about 45 minutes to see Dr. Larry. When I got to his office, his car wasn't there; a sure sign of trouble if I ever saw one. Indeed there was trouble. A woman had just gotten home from the hospital. She was bed ridden and was still hooked up to various IV's and such. Her poor dog needed to be put down. I don't know the details, but I do know it must have been serious to get Dr. Larry to leave the office and drive a long way there and back to help his dog make his journey to the Rainbow Bridge (or to wherever you think doggies go). The lady wanted to be with her dog, as sick as she was, so Dr. Larry had to bring the 100lb dog to her bedside and euthanize him there. Then he had to get the dog's body out of her house. Yikes!

I couldn't be mad at Dr. Larry, but I was tired after a long week. Even though I'd rather be in Larry's waiting room, than at work, I really wanted to just go home and take a nap. Instead, I leaned my head against the wall and took a quick nap. I thought about the poor dog and thought about how it has to be so tough to have to kill animals day in and day out. I know we call it "put to sleep," but heck, they aren't going to wake up from this sleep, now are they? I suppose one has to think about ending the suffering of another being over how it makes them feel, but still..shit..he kills animals!

Finally Dr. Larry arrives. He's had a tough day and seems to have completely forgotten about the BLOG incident, so I forget about it, too. We focus on Gracie and have a really good talk about what to do next. I feel a moment of pride here, I must admit. I've been very SLOW to treat Gracie beyond tests and just the basics for treatment. Instead of doing everything possible, I'm THINKING FIRST. My goal is to see if Gracie's immune system, with very limited help from LOW doses of steroids (only 2, each over a month apart), will improve over time. Dr. Larry said he thought she looked 40 percent better than the last time he saw her! SO IT MUSt BE THE RUG. It's the ONLY THING that's been changed.

Dr. Larry even agreed that we should NOT do the hyposensitization therapy at all, but give it more time. He didn't want to give her more steroids, so I asked him what else we could do besides a Depo shot. He said there was a less risky steroid we could use that would just help a bit and also not put Gracie at risk for diabetes. So we gave her that shot, then just so I wouldn't think life was going to be easy, Dr. Larry said he wants to see Gracie again, in two weeks and...during that time...

GRACIE NEEDS TO BE BATHED THREE TIMES!

And you don't just bathe and towel off...NOOOOOOO...that would be easy! I have to bathe her, LEAVE the medicated shampoo on her for 7-10 MINUTES...then she can be rinsed and dried off! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

This is where I said; "Trim her claws, NOW!"

Followed by: "Shit!"

So bathe her I shall...and I have PMS...and I'm really pissy...THIS WILL BE F-U-N!

Spencer has his eye on about 30 goldfinches who are busy scarfing up seeds. Good thing there's a thick glass door between my little pouff and his, err, "friends."

I bought an electric blanket for the feral cats even though once I shelled out $60 for it and it arrived, I found out you're not supposed to use it with PETS. Who cares if they stick their claw through the electrified wires?

Ok..I care, but the damn ferals won't even go INTO the stupid, but cute little feral cat house that we built for them. No matter what I do, I can't get the cats to go in there. They'd rather live outdoors and freeze their kitty-tushes off!

So I got into the habit of making sure the controller on the electric blanket says the blanket is heating. It turns itself OFF every 10 hours, regardless of whether or not you WANT it to go off every 10 hours!!!! What if you're really SICK and need the blankee 24/7? Yeah, it's preventing a law suit so they don't get nailed when the house catches fire because someone left their blanket on for days on end. This is all nuts to me. Just let me burn down my house if I want to. At least my feral cat house, which no cats live in, will be warm.

Tonight I was downstairs and I looked out into the room where the empty feral cat house was. I thought I'd go out and turn the pain in the ass electric blanket controller back ON. Why not..just in case the cats change their minds, right?

Fortunately, I had the wisdom to turn ON a LIGHT before I walked out into the feral room. Sitting on TOP of the feral cat house, was a Possum. All I could see was his little behind, so I walked over to another part of the basement where there's another window to get a better look. It's just a baby possum. It can't be more than 6 months old. He's all alone and looks so sad, but at least he's sitting on an old fluffy mattress pad. Must be nice on the toes, compared to the snow and ice that fell today.

He was just too cute to scare away, so I left him there. I know. I know. I shouldn't do that, but I just didn't have the heart tonight and besides, who says the cats have to get all the comforts of human home life?

Why does my gut tell me I'm going to pay for saying that?

Sunday's are for relaxing in the sunshine with a cup of tea, a good book and Bob at your side.

I thought I'd share this since Shelli posted (in the discussion forums, good lady!) about her cat's strange behavior-yeowling with a catnip toy in his mouth. Gracie does the same thing, regardless of the thing is a toy or REAL!

No mice were harmed in the shooting of this photo. It IS a toy..a very real, stomach-clenching-until-you're-for-certain-toy.

Does your cat yeowl when he or she has a toy in their mouth?

It's been a few MONTHS since Gracie first showed signs of Millary Dermatitis. Since then, I've had LOTS of test done. A few weeks ago, when I was working too much to bother to post anything (I know, lazy!), I found out that the HESKA blood test results were in!

For a mere $400!!!!!!!!!!!! I found out my stupid cat is allergic to stupid DUST MITES and stupid MOLDS!

(what about smart dust mites and smart mold..who knows?)

CRAP!

What PLANET do I have to move to where there ISN'T DUST MITES AND MOLD?

Why can't Gracie be allergic to, I dunno...ELEPHANTS! or maybe COFFEE? Then Sam would have to stop drinking it so much! But no! Noooooooo...Gracie is allergic to the one thing I can't get rid of.

Or can I?

I can be a decent detective when required and in this case, it didn't take long for me to realize two things:

1. Gracie spends most of her day in the bedroom.
2. There's a NEW RUG in the bedroom and it came from my 
Mother's Estate, where the house had a MILDEW problem 
and who-knows-what was still IN the RUG! AND AND AND...
we put it in the bedroom just around the same time 
Gracie broke out in the rash!

Now, to be clear, I DID have the rugs PROFESSIONALLY CLEANED AND SANITIZED before I brought them into the house, so I called the Rug Cleaners and talked to the owner and his son. They both told me there's NO WAY TO GET RID OF MOLD in a rug, even with "sanitizing."

So what are we SANITIZING the rug for, then???

I wanted to know about what chemicals they used and they were sort of tight lipped about that, but said it was nothing dangerous..ha ha..they also wanted to get the rug out of my house and have a look at it, then clean it all over again because it's only been a few months since they did the first cleaning.

The rug was moved to a holding area for a week, then they came and picked it up a few days ago. The bedroom floor squeaks and the rug muffled the sound. Now the sound is REALLY REALLY loud in the bedroom, but, at least, Gracie has a place to hang out where the friggen' dust mite population has been reduced.

I'm not certain, but I think Gracie is already getting a bit better. Either that or I just don't want to face giving her hyposensitization therapy (SHOTS) for the next YEAR...

Oh, and I have to bring her to see Dr. Larry again...ACK! I have to FACE Dr. LARRY! I said I LOVE HIM...OMG I'm dead meat.

I realize this is obvious to everyone in the universe, but it's weird... people actually read my BLOG.

I know.

That's the POINT, right?

I have these aspirations; that my small voice will penetrate the landscape and find crusty nooks and dimly lit crannies where cat-loving people dwell. That perhaps, my words will help them, make their day better, or give them a reason to laugh...yet writing is such a lonely task, usually done in a somewhat quiet room—if SAM would stop BANGING AROUND IN THE KITCHEN and STOP RATTLING THAT BAG OF CHIPS and if the CATS would STOP BITING THE STRING THAT HANGS OFF THE PLASTIC FILE FOLDER IN THE SHELF BEHIND ME. "Nom, nom, nom!!!!"

What's the uber-weirdest for me is realizing that not only do PEOPLE read this BLOG, but now I find out...PEOPLE I KNOW are reading it!

How can I write about them, if they read this? Now I'll be forced to be nice! God, I hate that! Why can't I just go on being a nasty you-know-what?

Tonight the phone rang. It was Dr. Larry.

"Oh good;" I thought "We can catch up about Gracie's treatment and Bob's barfing."

"My heart jumped out of my overly padded chest cavity as Dr. Larry kinda sorta gushed about how nice I am. Of course, this set off an alarm. What? Who? Not me? Huh? Then it hit me...he READ MY BLOG ENTRY about him being my family! Where I got all gushy and mushy about him-which was all completely true, but Dr. Larry doesn't play on the internet, so I figured he would never see it!

Bob reacts to the news, when I tell him that Dr. Larry read my BLOG...
and so did HIS WIFE!

Once again, DUH, Robin. Duh!

It seems that super-Vet tech Deb, somehow got the link to this website over to Dr. Larry's cute wife Cindy. She read the BLOG and, well not sure of her reaction exactly, other than it was GOOD (thankfully) and, of course, she told Dr. Larry, who she probably calls something other than DOCTOR, to hurry up and read this BLOG entry!

Now she wants me and bag-rattling-Sam to come over for dinner! I'm so embarrassed!I feel like I got caught admitting I have a crush on the Captain of the Jr High School Football Team (of course, this is when I am also in Jr High, not now, as a pervvy old person having a crush on a kid! Ewww! Gross)

Well, I can't edit myself too much and I won't change my ways...cough..for now because I haven't SEEN Dr. Larry yet and I am going to have to face him and his cute wife..ack!

Okay. Okay. I need to get a grip. Plus, I need to take some activated charcoal. That cold, leftover pizza I ate gave me the shits.

Oh, and wherever you are, THANKS DEB! THANKS!

P.S. 10 minutes later...I thought I would re-read the BLOG post about Dr. Larry (see the post about 5 down from this one). FU@K! I said I LOVE HIM! OMG..his wife said she wanted us to come over for dinner..but maybe so she only said it so she can LURE me to her home where she can confront me about what I wrote!!! Ack!

Bob stopped vomiting after getting a few days of meds. He's back to his old self, as you can see, below. I noticed he's still a bit sniffly, but his energy level is remarkable, considering his rough life history and lack of Vet care, 'til I got my hands on him (of course).

Bob's still got the biggest personality in town and never hesitates on reminding me of that, regardless of how he's feeling.