Because the first thing they teach you in kitten school is How to be a Pain in the Ass, my cats all want to go out in the morning, but they all want to go out at different times. Each one saunters to the door, and even if the back door is open and it’s just the screen door, the girl cats mew piteously till I open it.
I did that this morning, five minutes apart, for Lily and Iris. Had to stop what I was doing and head over there. “mew!” Then just now I watched Steely Dan stomp over, and without hesitation put his front paws up on the screen door and push it the fuck open. Never even considered asking me.
I like that cat.
Yesterday afternoon, I saw him up his tree and captured him in action. I wish you could see how fast he runs up that thing. It’s nothing to him. Much like my tree-climbing childhood.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh! Woooo! Yes. I was quite the tomboy. There was no keeping me from the roughhousing. I wasn’t at all stuck behind a book in the basement, ever. No. What Vitamin D deficiency?
The reason I was home and able to photograph SD in action is because I was felled by a real migraine, finally. I got m’daith pierced May 7, and yesterday, June 15, was the first really inconvenient one. Still, I was able to be out of bed by 3 p.m., which is unusual, so.
I think I got a migraine because it was storming out, bad, the night before. I took two videos (veeeeedeos) on my phone and WordPress won’t upload them, which annoys. One was of how many fireflies were in my yard Wednesday night, and the other was a few minutes later, of the lightning and upcoming storm we were getting ready for. Both compelling and like nothing you’ve ever seen. But NO. WordPress isn’t letting you see it. Fake media.
Instead, here’s a photo of Edsel and me that night, when normally it’d be lovely and sunset-y and so on and instead we were being invaded by Brady Bunch houses and also a storm.
It was a magnificent storm, once it got here, but here’s the terrible part. Iris is all of a sudden scared of storms. She minces down close to the ground, and at this last storm, she even panted the way she did after those dogs got her. I worry that the thunder reminds her of those dogs growling.
Naturally, when she got like this, my instinct was to pick her up and kiss her and hold her, and there’s nothing a cat likes better than that when she’s scared. As soon as she was politely able, she scurried from me and hid under the green chair all night. I left my bedroom door open for her, and I was so glad when I felt her come in, finally, and press spines with me like she does.
Poor little PTSD Iris.
Oh, good. I was at least able to transfer this video (veeeeedeo) (someone tell everyone else why they fuck I keep saying that) to YouTube, with all my spare time, so you can at least see my fireflies.
Anyway, with the fireflies and the storm, it was a lovely evening and I had the time of my life and I never felt this way before. And I swear it’s the truth. And I owe it all to you.
But then I got the damn migraine.
I’d had plans for weeks to go to RiffTrax with The Poet, though (Google fucking it) and I’d been looking forward to it. So finally I had to get up and shower, and here I am, above, in a stunning Before post-migraine look that everyone should attempt. Hey, Roots, how’s Kunta Kinte?
After. Thank god.
When I got to the theater, that cloud was doing a really pretty pink/blue/green thing in the upper-left that of course didn’t actually photograph, but I made The Poet come look at it because she is not a camera and could see it.
RiffTrax (no, really, Google fucking it before I slug you) was hilarious, and there’s no point in getting popcorn when you go to see it because you’ll just choke to death laughing and eating. That is my safety advice for you today.
I gotta go, but before I do, I called the vet about Edsel licking the bottom of my entire bed, and the chair, and the couch, and since he isn’t itchy anymore, it’s starting to seem behavioral.
Her instinct was yes, it probably is, too, and she said she’d look into which new antidepressant to try since Prozac did nothing. But she called me later in the day and said she’d been doing research and they’ve found that most often licking is gastrointestinal, not behavioral, and he’s going in for bloodwork today and will likely take Pepcid and Flagyl, because clearly he has an STD, to see if that works. He could have irritable bowels or something. I have noticed his poop is so bitchy.
Anyway, good veteranarianing, on her part.
Talk at you.