Jun 15 2010
The Surgeon Always Rings Twice
Tiny picture of Harriet as a tiny kitten
It turns out that Harriet managed to dislocate her leg from her hip, if I understood all the medical terminology flying around Dr. Karen’s sunlit office yesterday afternoon. Apparently, this is quite a feat for any cat, and can usually only be accomplished with the assistance of a car or a heaping helping of gravity.
Harriet lost her voice years ago*, so she couldn’t explain what happened to her. Although Megan dodged a bullet with Schatzi, who now has approval for longer leash walks, it hit her fair and square with Harriet, who will have to have surgery. With the lethargy of workers’ comp in scheduling Megan’s surgery, it’s anyone’s guess who will go under the knife first.
As for me, I’m off to the bright lights of Santa Rosa, possibly best-known as the perfect small town in Alfred Hitchcock’s masterpiece “Shadow of a Doubt”, but now best-known as a traffic nightmare for which ten exits are not enough. It’s not a small town anymore.
While I’m enjoying the swank amenities of Motel Six, Audrey will be in solitary confinement, since I’m trapping her in the house while I’m gone. Better safe than sorry. Megan will stop by and check in on her. She’ll probably be glad to see me go, because last night I successfully and expensively Advantaged her, and she gave me the stink eye all night, running away in disdain and disgust if I dared to approach her.
*Though this did not deter her from yowling all the way to the vet’s office. Megan said it was the loudest she’d been in years, so I guess it’s all about motivation. At the office, a woman asked if there was a Siamese in the carrier. I said, “No, just a really pissed-off tabby.”