Corner of Bourbon & Division

Sergeant (well, Sergent, but I think for the purposes of this LJ I'll stick to the English spelling) is now at home with me.



He's settling in pretty well. The cats are furious: Pan-Pan is hiding in the highest place he was able to find, Smudge has disappeared, and George is hissing sporadically at the proceedings from inside the recycling bin. Yeah, I don't know either.

Unfortunately, the poor guy is still waiting at the door for his Mommy and Daddy to come back. I'm going to take him for a walk in an hour or so in the hopes that this will cheer him up. His Mommy cried when she left, poor thing. I think this separation is going to be hard on all of them, but I have promised to email regular updates to them, and they live close enough that they can come visit if they want.

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for your sweet comments on my post about Gretzky. I can't quite respond to people without being a giant baby and crying over my keyboard, so for now I'm hoping this blanket statement will cover it adequately.

You're all wonderful.

*group hug*

LJ is still not sending me comment notifications. Most frustrating.

The cats have outdone themselves, in other news.

( TMI for cat-related gore under here. If you're squeamish about cats killing small critters, don't read )

Sporadic Life Update #75

So life proceeds apace. Just got back from a mini-roadtrip to New Brunswick with my colleague J, which was equal parts fun and frustration, mostly because she turned out to be a slightly passive-aggressive kind of travelling companion. Overall, though, it was a really good time, and the GSCVO handled the road beautifully AND had fantastic gas mileage.

Work is work. The schedule is still wreaking havoc with what little social life I have, but is otherwise pretty good. I'm not being totally overworked, which is a nice change of pace.

We've had some unpleasantness over the past few months due to the possibility of permanent positions opening up. We are 14 temporary operators vying for six job openings, and while some of us (like myself) are being reasonably zen about the whole process, others have taken it upon themselves to make things as unpleasant as humanly possible. Even though the process of filling the permanent positions is pretty much an objective one (everyone has to pass through two evaluations, one written and one oral, which are graded by one senior staff member and one HR person who's entirely impartial), these people have decided that they will be best served by trying to undermine their colleagues in any way they can think of. It's really very unfortunate, and has made the atmosphere around here pretty tense. I'm lucky enough that my 12-hour schedule keeps me mostly out of the way of said unpleasant people, which is good all-around.

It does, however, motivate me even more to keep working toward my goal of becoming a regular member. I'm not deluding myself that there won't be other problems in other jobs, but at least I'd be paid more. ;)

Lots of other minor work-related things, which I may go into in depth at some future date.


I came home from my trip to a very sick cat. Gretzky's been feeling poorly for a while now, but she took a sharp turn for the worse when I was gone. So we hied ourselves to the vet today, where I found out that my beloved vet is on maternity leave, leaving me to deal with the evil vet who accused me of wanting my cat to suffer back in the day. Evil vet redeemed himself by A) being polite and respectful, B) telling me how beautiful my cat was, and C) not trying to sell me any ridiculously expensive procedures on my cat.

Gretzky got poked and prodded, injected with antibiotics, injected with a whole lot of saline solution to rehydrate her, and even got her claws clipped since she won't let me near her paws anymore and her claws were threatening to grow right into the pads of her feet. The possibly-not-evil vet cleaned her up, talked nicely to her, and let me hold her while he did undignified things to her so she wouldn't be too traumatized.

We got home after two hours, and she's already looking much better, and seems perkier. So all is well in the feline world.

I then got called in for an emergency night shift at work, which is where I am now, sneaking onto the internet. Bad Phnee! ;) I am tired and mostly braindead, so I'm hoping they don't hold it against me too much.

In other news, the date for Capricornucopia has been set: January 15th. Mark your calendars. :)

So, one very expensive vet visit later, we are home.

There was Dramah. Gretzky does NOT like going to the vet, and she does NOT like the thermometer and she very much DOES NOT LIKE needles. She spent half the time with her head buried in my armpit, purring very very loudly, and the other half trying to escape by clawing her way up my arm and over my shoulders.

It appears has the same upper respiratory crap she had last year right around this time. Apparently she has a knack for getting sick in the winter, same as everyone else.

Also, it's time for Round 2 of flea season. Flea treatments are not cheap. Egads.

As an added bonus, she's also managed to get her cornea inflamed with... something. We're not sure what. The vet put some radioactive-looking goop in her eye (it's not really radioactive, more like phosphorescent, but it LOOKED cool and glowed in the dark!) and was able to determine that at least there was no ulcer present on her cornea. So, uh, that's a sort of win. She does have to have eyedrops in three times a day. Joy.

We're doing more bloodwork to make sure her kidneys and thyroid are doing what they're supposed to, since she's lost over a pound in the last year. She's down to nearly 9lbs, poor girl. Let's remember that when I first got her six years ago she weighed nearly 15lbs. So she's technically at a "healthy" weight, but still. Not good.

I had to rescue the vet tech when they tried to take blood. Gretzky decided that being held by a stranger and poked with a needle was Not On™, and yowled and flailed and scratched and writhed and was generally uncooperative until it was decided that they should let me hold her after all. I offered, and they were all "no no, we've got it, we're professionals," until the cat turned into a demon. She was good as gold when I held her. I was amused, though it's probably not nice of me. ;)

And that's that. Follow-up in two weeks' time.

Pan-Pan has, of late, decided that he needs to live inside my ribcage. I keep trying to tell him there isn't enough room in there for both him and my internal organs, but he's hell-bent on testing the theory anyway.

I've turned up the heat a bit in the apartment in the vain hopes that it's only because he's feeling chilly that he keeps trying to burrow in under my spleen.

Ow.

Right now I've managed to persuade him to cuddle up with George on top of my feet. I now have no feeling at all in my toes, but it's better than the alternative.

George has developed a new complex/neurosis in which he likes having me around to eat. I don't have to be there the whole time, but I do have to go with him to the kitchen before he'll settle in front of his dish.

I am reminded of toughlovemuse walking her Jake to his dish, and somehow the whole process makes me both amused and sad.

George may be a pampered princess, but I think that, in the end, I would regret not taking the time to walk him to his dish. It seems like such a small concession.

Of course, right now I'm feeling less sentimental about the whole process because he just puked at my feet.

Ah, love. :P

The Prodigal Kitty returns! None the worse for wear, but VERY clingy.


I had three messages from moonandtree on my machine this morning. He knew I was on the lookout for George.

The first message was something like this: "Hi mousme, it's around midnight and I have George here. He's fine, and I'm going to try knocking on your door."

Since I was at work last night, the following message ran thusly: "Hi mousme, George is with me. Hopefully you'll come by before I leave for work tomorrow morning."

The last message went like this: "Hi mousme. I tried keeping George in but he has not. stopped. yowling. since he came in, and so I've kicked him out. He's in the garden."


Anyway, many thanks to moonandtree for going above and beyond the call of duty and putting up with a very loud and fussy brat of a kitty. :)

All is well, and now I am going to bed.


Cats.

George wishes it to be known that he is The Saddest Cat In The Universe™.

Just so you're aware.

Life with me is a pit of suffering, despair, and angst. He's been HOWLING all morning.

Cats.

Spent most of today hanging out and watching DVDs, then headed out with maya_banana in the evening to get a costume for a steampunk party. Contrary to all my expectations, I found a really nice costume on Parc st. near Laurier. It's nothing like what I had originally envisioned, but it's really pretty anyway.

I have discovered The Mentalist, a new-ish TV show which is a slightly off-kilter take on the police procedural. It's fluff, but fun, well-written fluff.

In other news, George just escaped out the front door, and I REFUSE to worry about him and become all emo and angst-ridden. He can damned well stay out there until he's hungry, because I'm not chasing after a black cat all night long.

Bah.

Cats.

:::ETA:::

Got him back. All is well.

Bah.

Cats.