The Owls Approve: May 2014

Achilles

Toting his credit card, again, I took my husband's cat to the vet this morning. This would be Achilles, who we lovingly refer to as "little shit", located somewhere on the sidebar to your left.

The Shit is an obnoxious cat, full of personality. He launches himself into our arms. Or onto our unsuspecting backs. He jumps on the counter, regardless of how many times I've chased him off, sprayed him, swatted him, scruffed him. One side of the sink has to stay blocked because he's discovered the magic of the garbage disposal. He leads you into the bathroom. He harasses our quiet, shy cat incessantly. He's run off with cinnamon rolls en route to our mouths, with icecream sandwiches, with meat intended for others.

But for the last few days or so, he has done none of this. He's slept. He's slowly eaten. He's taken treats, but not with his normal finger-tip-devouring enthusiasm. I explained to my husband that by the time you realized that cats were sick, they were normally on death's door. So I made an appointment.

And the cat is pretty sick. Not like dying-sick, but gimme-drugs-and-bloodwork-and-rechecks-sick.

No drugs at this point, just a naturally tripping cat.

The vet noted that he was anemic and that his blood was clotting poorly and suspects a feline infectious anemia, transmitted by fleas. This was an education for me, as the only time I've experienced feline flea related anemia was the last time that Lizzie Borden (also pictured left) donated blood - to a cat so inundated with bloodsuckers that she was anemic.

I think this antisocialism was the result of illness and insult.

Couple this excitement with some personal drama leaving me perpetually ready to drive to Florida, unending rain, and a general lack of my normal (ha. ha.) joie de vivre. That's it. Just merge all that shit and percolate.

Being poked and prodded warranted a snack.. also so I could shove pills down him afterwards.

(For those in the know: the cats are indoor only, UTD on Revolution, and the dogs are on Comfortis, as well as a secondary medication in their heartworm preventative that sterilizes fleas. And the nutter husband sprays the back yard periodically, even though I don't like it, because I'm worried about contaminates going into the creek.)

books

WW: Booknerd

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By Beka Burke
4 Comments

higher learning

The Horse Course

2:00 PM
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Archie

Annual Staycation, Part 2.

11:47 AM
By Beka Burke
4 Comments

I feel like the theme for all my time off was weather and Archie. With a sprinkling of gym time and bonding with the hubs.

I bought this saddle pad a really, really long time ago.

So rather than go through the day-by-day, here are some highlights:

I asked my BM if she had any nippers and her immediate response was something like, "FOR ARCHIE?!" because I guess she got the memo that he'll be in shoes forever, too. Actually, she used them to rip the "Dolce" off the leather halter.
D and I bumped into my Krav Maga instructor at the gym. Slightly awkward, as I had just been teased by D for doing assisted sit-up punches with my feet nestled under this guy's thighs. Yes, it was just as freaking uncomfortable as it sounds. It's at about 1:15 on the below video, except you punch once you get to the top.

I can't believe I forgot to mention this when I started Krav Maga:

First day, I parked behind a SCAD student with equestrian stickers all over her SUV. There aren't a lot of us, so she's freaking lucky that I didn't start knocking on random doors to make friends.
My KM trainer actually owns 300 acres in Utah, where he keeps horses. He said that his son has taken over and runs the property. He said he personally owns a Paso Fino and a QH, but appreciates the QH more for the speed.
He wants to come out and photograph Archie. I've got no issues with anyone photographing the Kid, so long as they share their work.