14 May
Well, it hasn't really been much of a productive weekend, but it's been a nice, relaxing one.
Yesterday I saw John again and taught him his German and British accents some more. He had the sounds down better than the week before, and I started teaching him some melody, but my presence made him nervous, and he was having some problems on which "A" sound is which ("Nahncy?" "No, that's Nancy." "Bath?" "No, that's bahth.") not to mention those appalling German "R"s that may drive him to suicide.
All in all, though, it was $30 easily earned for me.
Then I went back home, picked up the cat, and went to the vet.
My little Milo, the fourteen year old cat, has been losing weight like there is no tomorrow for the past six or seven months. He has always been a massive cat, big and fat and solid, though he was never a big eater, and he never looked his age.
He doesn't eat any more or less than he ever did, but now he's all bony and he damn well looks fourteen. He doesn't appear to feel bad or anything, though he's a little mouthier than he used to be, a little more querulous, and he's drinking lots of water.
Which, when you add it together, age, weight loss and thirst, spells kidneys. However, my little Rhubarb lived to be twenty and she had kidney trouble, so I'm not too worried.
Anyway, I decided to take him to the vet, so I went to my bathroom closet, where I was certain that my four giant pink cat carriers that I haven't used for two and a half years were. They were not there. They were not anywhere. This is a small apartment, and yet...
I ended up emptying a box of books, putting him in, and then tying it shut with a jumprope. Just me and my homeless cat, nice to see you. He yowled like he was being stuck with pins, but it would have been the same had he been in the nice pink box.
I'll tell you, the only way more people talk to you on the street is if you are pregnant--firmly in second place is carrying a meowing cat in a box tied with a jumprope.
Anyway, the vet looked in his ears and looked at his teeth and palpated his belly and drew a bunch of blood (about the only time Milo stopped meowing, that vet has a deft hand with a syringe!) and charged me $130 and sent us home! With a cardboard cat carrier rather than my box.
I was then going to go back into the city and catch a flick, but instead I sat in the backyard with Fran and Molly and Bonnie, it was such a lovely day. The weather has been so weird lately, 90° for several days, then 50° the next, then rain and chill, and then absolutely lovely yesterday.
Until the four of us went to the supermarket and came out to find the deluge.
No, really, we went in and it was fine, we came out and the Ark was floating by. I hadn't worn a jacket, Bonnie was in a little sweater, Fran had his jean jacket, and Molly was in her raincoat because she couldn't find her other jacket before leaving the house, but because of this, she managed to be the smart one!
Fran wanted to wait for it to stop, but I wanted to be out in it, so we waited for a lull, such as it was, we put Fran's jacket on Bonnie, and we went out into the rain, yelling "Yippee!" every time the lightning flashed. It was terrifically fun.
It reminded me of once, when I was in college, the same thing happened--it went from no rain to all the rain all at once, and I ran down sixteen flights of stairs to walk up and down in front of my building on Fifth Ave. in New York City. Everyone else was rushing with their heads down, trying to get away from the water, while I was strolling with my head back and my arms open. In bare feet, might I add.
It was like that.
And then today, it was all about sitting in the backyard with Fran and Bonnie and the cats. I actually rested this weekend. I'm actually ready to go back to work tomorrow.
Well, almost.
Today's horoscope:
You need thrills today. Fun comes with a rush of adrenaline and a willingness to take a few chances.
One year ago today:
Now that's what I call depressed.
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Last Updated Sun 14 May 21:38:09 2000