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Thursday, July 22, 2010

Fairies Wear Boots

Patience, coincidentally, was my lesson du jour yesterday. And I must have asked the Universe umpteen (if that is a number) times for her assistance. Alas... it is noon, and it is the first I have been able to write. It was a very...longggggg...night for me, but a much more difficult eve for my cat, the cat of all cats... Jack... who I am convinced is on life # 5 and is not even three-years-old (he survived being hit by a garbage truck at 1 1/2, and is now a one-eyed ginger). Perhaps the fates are preparing me for what is to come after the pollywog arrives on the scene.

Here is the story.

In my current living situation, jack is one of five cats, and four large dogs... two of which are very slow in the process of learning to accept felines into their world. As adorable as Willy and Olive are (newfoundland/labrador mixes) they are a bit brutish when it comes to bullying; cats are their target when the spirit strikes them. There are seven acres of forest, grass a pond, etc. for the pets to romp about, but like most... they would much rather linger around the homestead, near the food bowl. In the month that I have resided here, I have found it a real challenge to understand this lack of canine/feline comraderie as my two lumps, Sherman and Thomas that I have introduced into the mix sleep with and bath the cats. I think that the pictur is clear.

About a week ago, jack arrived after a night of exploring with a limp, and as is the case with any animal (us included) when I instinctively tried to touch the hidden wound, jack cried bloody murder, and that was that! I wasn't able to even venture near his lame leg after that unless he was sleeping; even that was a challenge. As jack is a survivor, like all of his battle wounds, I thought that with time it would heal.

Jack made himself more scarce as the week progressed until I heard a horrific noise yesterday, and the dogs (my Thomas included) going ballistic! I ran (more like wobbled) to the side of the house and looked up at the spiral staircase leading to a balcony outside of our apartment. Hanging from the top step by his front paws was one-eyed jack with the gorilla dogs, Willy and Olive, barking incessantly in his maimed face! And not a second later... Jack fell from the top step as the dogs went careening down the spiral staircase to accost him as I watched helplessly in horror, spewing countless expletives at the gorillas! Jack, ofcourse, landed on all fours and let out a cry that resonated from the fiery abyss; his poor leg.

So... last evening was spent at an 24/7 animal emergency center with a very hurt, very angry little jack who I carried there in a plastic storage bin lined with towels that franks (my partner-in-crime) poked holes in for ventilation;you'd think that someone with an arsenal of pets such as I would invest in a handy-dandy cat carrier such as this:

And hours later after countless x-rays and blood tests, all eight pounds of little jackie was donned in an Elizabethan collar, a white scarf that looks like an ascot, and a tube sticking out of a bulbous, shaved abcess on his right hip, but no broken bones. The poor little guy just needs some serious nursing, antibiotics, and assistance with eating, for the collar makes it a bit taxing.

Alas... patience and compassion. Thank you Siddhartha.

'till this evening...
Amanda xo
Download-of-the-Day - "Fairies Wear Boots" - Black Sabbath... just because.
It needs to played LOUD.

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