7-2-08

Nance and Trey got here right on time yesterday – I parked, walked into the airport terminal, checked the “arrivals” monitor, saw that it said “landed” next to their flight, walked upstairs to the area outside security, waited for about three minutes, got a text from Trey letting me know they’d landed, and then saw … Continue reading “7-2-08”

Nance and Trey got here right on time yesterday – I parked, walked into the airport terminal, checked the “arrivals” monitor, saw that it said “landed” next to their flight, walked upstairs to the area outside security, waited for about three minutes, got a text from Trey letting me know they’d landed, and then saw them coming.

I was promised that Nance would be all hopped up on (legal) drugs when she arrived, but she was about the same as far as I could tell.

We came back to the house and gabbed at each other for a while and I introduced Trey to the chickens and the kittens, and then we went out for lunch at Applebee’s.

The temperature at Applebee’s, I’m telling you, was about thirty below zero. All three of us were FREEZING.

At one point, Trey said something about his shrimp (he had shrimp fettucine, I think) was “Very shrimp-y”, and I envisioned an evening wherein Fred and Trey discussed how Trey’s shrimp was too shrimp-y and then Fred could talk about the organic eggs we bought a few years ago being “too egg-y”, and they could bond like the weirdos they are.

When we left Applebee’s, we went to Madison to the – as Nance calls it – hippie store, where we looked at their selection of Crocs. After some looking around and trying on (they had Crocs with Mickey Mouse cutouts! Only, not in my size. DAMNIT.), I found a pair that I liked, and so I bought ’em. They’re the Patra, in chocolate & sea foam. I’ve only worn them for a little while, but so far they are way comfy. (Also, they smell like patchouli.)

We got home and sat around talking for a while (and Nance sent Trey off to the Dollar store) and then Fred got home with Sugarbutt, who was quite a sight. Not only did they clean both his back feet and bandage them up, they put a No-Bite collar on him, and he was still dopey from the medication, and that poor thing, he was just a flat-out mess.

Fred told me the instructions from the vet, which were: keep Sugarbutt separate from the other cats for a week, use only paper in his litterbox, give him this pill for such-and-such a time, this pill for such-and-such a time, and spray this on his foot as often as possible.

We debated where the hell to put Sugarbutt, and Nance assured us that it was A-OK with her if we put him in the guest bedroom with her, but in the end we decided to put him in Fred’s bedroom. We put a litter box with Feline Pine in it and then Fred let Sugarbutt out of the carrier and Sugarbutt was still SO high that he didn’t know what the hell to do. He ended up hanging out under Fred’s bed for most of the evening, but at snacktime I went up and took him a little plate of snack, and he dove into it.

Poor Suggie.

(Last night around midnight, Sugarbutt decided he’d had ENOUGH and started digging at Fred’s bedroom door. After discussing it with me, Fred opened his bedroom door, and Sugarbutt went slinking down the stairs. We were worried that the other cats would hiss and growl at him and wake Nance and Trey up, but for once they behaved themselves.)

Fred and I drove up into Closeville to drop off his truck (the passenger’s side seatbelt and the air conditioning need fixing) and when we got home, we found Nance and Trey out by the side porch and Joe Bob cornered under the porch. Apparently before we left the house to go get lunch, Joe Bob had hopped the fence and I’d shut the back door without realizing he wasn’t around. While Fred and I were gone Nance was out there and Joe Bob came sauntering up all “What UP, bitchez?!”, and she was worried that he’d run into the road, so she and Trey chased him under the side porch and made sure he stayed there ’til we got back.

Fucking Joe Bob. I had changed out the batteries in his collar earlier in the day, but apparently he wasn’t being zapped enough to deter him. We’ve decided to switch his collar and Tommy’s and see how that goes.

Fred took Trey out to the garden to pick some vegetables, and then he made the poor boy weed, which Trey did willingly and without complaining, because he’s a good boy.

(Trey wants to have his eyebrow pierced and I said “Well, it could be worse!” and “Hey, you could get your eyebrow pierced right there!” I’m an instigator. HEE.)

We had Light & Luscious Lasagna and salad for dinner, and then Fred and Trey watched a loud and obnoxious movie (one of the Terminators, I think) and Nance and I surfed and gabbed ’til bedtime.

For the most part the cats behaved themselves until a little after 6 this morning when Joe Bob decided to be an ass and got all up in Stinkerbelle’s grill, and she responded by screaming like a wildcat. Asshole cats.

And now I’m off to take Kara and her babies to the vet to be spayed and neutered. I’ll pick them up after 5 and I expect that they’ll be ready to sleep the night away, poor babies.

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Not. Happy.

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Previously
2007: I gave him The Eyes and said “Oh NO you did NOT!”
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: Had I, in fact, ONCE KILLED SOMEONE and the memory was trying to break free into my conscious mind?
2003: “Yeah, I see you, you portly little cat. You don’t scare me!”
2002: Some Eminem lookalike just drove by and put a flyer on my mailbox.
2001: I have the sinking suspicion that we’re going to be homeless by August 1st.
2000: No entry.