Coming off sane.
to come off as a sane person.
Dan Greenberg
Yes, I know. Yet another entry devoted to Clueless Wonder’s medical progress. Or lack thereof. This morning, when I got up, there was only a undersized grey menace waiting at the bedroom door for me. This is not right. Clueless Wonder is supposed to wake me up an hour early, so I (or The Prof) can get up, throw him in the spare bedroom, and pretend to go back to sleep for an hour. I put ACfH’s food down in the bathroom, shut her in, and went to check on Clueless.
He was asleep in the dining room in his cat bed. I swear he hadn’t moved from last night. He got up, greeted me, and even started doing the “feed me” routine of going back and forth between the food bowl and the storage can that holds his food. I managed to sneak his antibiotic into him no trouble this morning, and fed him about half of what he usually gets for breakfast. He ate well, but left a few kibbles behind, and then went back to his cat bed and resumed looking depressed. He won’t even give me kitty kisses, and this is a cat that believes that nothing is clean until he has personally done a thorough job cleaning it himself.
So I continue to worry. That cat still isn’t right. The Prof promised to call me later today with a cat update. I was going to try and sneak home at lunch to check on him, but *somebody* didn’t do what they were supposed to on Friday while I was out, and I’m paying the price today. *grumble*
The Prof and I watched “The First Spaceship on Venus” with Basil Rathbone last night before I did my usual crash-at-ten routine. There is nothing like an old, cheesy movie to finish off a weekend. The movie was made in 1965, which surprised me because I thought Rathbone died before then. I’ll have to take some time later and look up Basil Rathbone’s bio to see what I can find on him. Other than the old Sherlock Holmes movies, I know very little about him.
My boss is still trying to talk me into buying a lightsaber replica. That man must have a real money disposal problem. What’s killing me is that I’d really like to have one, even though I don’t even have a decent place to display it. Ah well, it doesn’t matter now anyhow. Any potential lightsaber money just went to pay Clueless Wonder’s stay at Chez Vet Hospital.