[*as dramatic as possible]

If you’re the nervous type, Iris is okay. Now you can go on with your day and you don’t have to read any more of my drivel.

Before I closed the door forever on writing for Purple Clover, I once saw someone refer to a piece I wrote as, “This dribble.” I’m sorry to tell you I wrote her back directly and said, “You mean to say drivel. I write drivel.”

Anyway.

I’ve managed to put the final touches on volume XILXIVX of June’s Eternal Humiliation. I had high hopes for my week, buying healthy-ish groceries and planning to do well. Among the purchases was this new oatmeal in the oatmeal aisle, that claimed to have natural ingredients. I never have time to eat before work, because I have four million pets who all need medication now, so I look for something to eat once I get to work and can relax.

The directions said add cold water and microwave. Since I’m smarter than all direction-writers, I formed the thought that we have hot water in our ironically named water cooler at work. I could just add hot water, cut out the middleman, and that is why I’m a powerful executive at a huge conglomerate.

When I got to my desk, I noticed my oatmeal didn’t look very…oaty. I read the ingredients, and oats were the first item listed. “Must be some new way to serve oatmeal,” I brillianted, as I hedged funds and ported my folio.

I ate the entire thing before I realized I’d eaten pancake batter for breakfast. What did I think the picture of the pancakes meant?

This is like when my grandmother told my beleaguered grandfather to get Christmas stamps, “but not religious stamps.”

He comes back with stamps. Madonna and child stamps.

“Chuck. Who do you think that lady and that kid are?”

The truth of the matter is, it was delicious. The pancake batter. I did not eat baby Jesus. I’d have led with that.

Five stars. I’d do it again. Eat pancake batter, I mean. Not baby Jesus.

Anyway, I also made an appointment for Iris to go to a different vet, because dudes. She wasn’t looking good. For those of you who have cats, she had the hunched-over look. The hunched look they get when a cat in a hood and sickle is standing behind them.

She was hunched over in weird places she never goes. Another sign. And she didn’t eat or move all day, except one time she got up from one weird place to go to another weird place. Hunch in new real estate.

Naturally I took this time to be as dramatic as possible. I stroked her bony head. Because she’s lost weight, y’all. She used to weigh 11 and now she weighs 8.5.

“Iris, you know I love you, and that [I whispered] you’re my favorite. If this is your time to go, it’s okay. I’ll see you when I get there.”

Iris rolled her one good half an eye.

Yesterday morning I had to get her to the new vet on the block early, as the best they could do was a drop-off sitch, where they’d fit her in when they could. Before we left, I took Iris outside, and pointed out all the sounds of the birds and trains and cicadas to her, thinking she might not ever hear them again, because please see my eternal asterisk [*as dramatic as possible].

The most marvelous part of the whole new-vet scenario is that Nancy, Ned’s cat, was also there, boarding, and I asked them to place Nancy and Iris together, since they hate each other’s guts.

nanceee get devil ear of deth

Last year, for the two weeks between selling my last house and buying this one because I am a real-estate mogul, I stayed at Ned’s with all 47 pets. Nancy was livid. All she did was charge the cats and throw herself sluttily at Edsel. Who knew she’d like Edsel?

he kynd of sexeee

Anyway, the thought of Nancy and Iris in jail together, like how OJ was next to the Menendez brothers, killed me. One big-eyed bitch and one half-an-eyed bitch, two and a half angry eyes among them.

I went to work, telling the vet’s office I’d be near the phone at all times for a call on Iris’s status.

However, long about noon, I got a call from HR, which is always relaxing. “June, would you like to have lunch with the president?”

Not of the United States. Because no thank you. Of our company. The one I run with an iron fist.

“We’re ordering barbecue.”

Well, that sweetens the pot. I’d have said yes anyway, because if the president of the company wants to have lunch with you, you go.

The lunch was in the large boardroom at work, an impressive spot all done up in midcentury modern with white-leather-and-chrome chairs, angular ’60s light fixtures, and so on. Seeing as I myself am midcentury, I fit right in.

I got there at five minutes till noon, and the president bustled in and said hello, then was bustling about going from his office to the front desk and so on. I would never want to be president of anything. I’d spend the entire time flapping my hands and saying, OH MY GOD WHAT NOW.

There are these very simple midcentury benches lining the exposed-brick walls of our conference room, and I noticed the trees outside were turning red. I kneeled on a bench to admire them and

BOOM!!

the other side of the bench flew up. I was thrown onto my side, like a big kid had plunked himself on my teeter-totter.

And that, my friends, is how you climb the corporate see-saw.

Anyway, naturally the vet called during the lunch and I missed the call.

Iris has a very bad bacterial infection and they said, “She feels really awful.” Do you think? Because she wasn’t at all the Hunchcat of Mucus Dame all week or anything. She got an IV

not a four. An eyyeee veeee.

and two kinds of medication, new food for her irritable bowel, and $393949220 later I got to take her home.

nyne lifes

I gave her the medication last night and today, and let me tell you who is

A DELIGHT

to medicate.

I haven’t actually directly spoken to the vet yet, but she is going to call today to discuss everything further and it is inevitable she will call while I am dining with Vladimir Putin on the ritz. I can’t wait to see what furniture I topple off in front of him.

Batter up,
Joon

64 thoughts on “[*as dramatic as possible]

  1. I’m very happy Iris will hopefully feel like her murdery self soon with the new meds. I hear you on the impossible pills….our 8lb Terrier-Chi was the worst, I expressed this at the vet and the young idealist gladly offered to “show me how”. Ok, I’m game. An hour + 5 soggy discarded pills later, that dog walked out of the office with a liquid additive and I’m pretty sure the vet drank heavily that night. If she waited that long.

    Lovely dribble post, pretty glad-you’re-not-dead June!

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  2. Lovely post, Coot.

    Who knew you could drink your pancakes? I mean, sometimes I drink my dinner, but pancakes?

    Poor Iris. She would go to the light if she could only see it. Maybe that means she will live forever. Like the cat in Sweet Home Alabama.

    Also and too, I have done the whole Buster Keaton thing in front of the Big Boss. Or should I tell you about the time I had a visible whale tale at a company luncheon and the boss came over to tell me it was the talk of the meal? Moby who?

    Oh yes, always the most graceful in the room.

    Have a wonderful day, Coot, and remember to laugh at yourself first and beat them to the punch.

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  3. Vladimit Putin on the ritz had me snorting. I’ve missed your humor. Glad Iris is feeling better.
    Kodiak cakes are good pancakes. And now I know they are good oatmeal too.
    Lovely post, Joob.

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  4. I’m glad to hear that Iris finally has a diagnosis and a plan to get her well. Sorry that your bench routine got a 2 from the Russian judge. I hope you haven’t re-concussed yourself in the process!

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  5. Why can’t all vets and doctors have the same set of knowledge? This bugs me that the old vet didn’t know what the crap to do. I’ve had the same thing with doctors. One will let someone just wither away while the next one would have been able to save me (or my dead neighbor) months of suffering (or death in his case).

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  6. lol Oh Junie, you do not disappoint! I am still laughing so hard. I am right there with Iris as I have a bacterial stomach issue and am on 4 medications which are far more troublesome than the illness itself! But I love the “dribble” too! I have had a rough couple of days with storms and tummy and people in general – so this is the best laugh I have had and you just made this a super good day!!!! Love you

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  7. I’m going to look for liquid pancakes next time I’m at the store. And oh my god with the bench. Glad Iris is being treated for the right thing. Thanks for writing at us.

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  8. Were you wearing a dress while climbing the corporate ladder/bench tossing? If so, go girl…

    So glad to see that Iris is on the mend.

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  9. SNORT! Oh my goodness! I haven’t laughed this hard is a long time. I didn’t laugh about sweet Iris. I hope the new vet and meds perk her right up and she is back to eating well and being herself AND gaining weight.

    You have not lost your funny and I hope in the midst of the BOOM you didn’t bump your head. We don’t want your head hurt ever again. This is a prime example of your wonderful writing ability. You have no idea how much I have missed this. You are one of a kind…that I just love.

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  10. This is a post for the ages. You’re the queen of hilarity. Thank the good Lord you already have a tiara because girl, you reign. And I’m not just saying this because I just ate candy and am happy.
    “Who do you think that lady and that kid are?” My Catholic self guffawed. Right here in m cubicle amidst work cubicles of silence. Followed by a chortle, which I hardly ever do.
    The corporate see saw. I just can’t.

    I bow before thee.

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  11. This was one big belly laugh! Love that you straightened out your commenter on the dribble. Also too loved so much more in this post. I once found Stainaway for dentures in the laundry stain remover section at the Walmarts so I can relate to the pancake batter being with the oatmeal. Most of all, I’m glad Iris is okay-ish.

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  12. Furthermore, another copy editor already had me craving pancakes yesterday. This is cruel.
    And hooray for little Iris, trying to be as dramatic as you!

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  13. 4. I believe Flowsnake was growing into finding Edsel sexee too. Some of us like older men.

    c) I had a friend with one good eye and one glass one, which I’ve heard he occasionally pops out for parties. Once I sent him a photo of a football coach who eerily resembles him, and he replied, “Not enough nose and too many eyes.”

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  14. You and this post, are total gems. You are both a pleasure of life. Thank you for making me guffaw so early in the day!

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  15. Oh June! Thank the lord you’re back and in rare form, oh how we’ve missed your daily news. First – so glad Iris is on the mend, second – saving this post for future laughs as it made me snort coffee out my nose. Have a lovely weekend!

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  16. the corporate see saw is hilarious. I have a great visual of you running around with your hands up yelling ‘now what?!’ as the president of something. So your original vet missed this? Or am I misunderstanding? Sounds like a straight forward case of illness. Can;t wait to hear about your Putin lunch.

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  17. Oh my goodness. This made me snort. It’s a toss-up between dribble/drivel and “as I hedged funds and ported my folio” (I work in finance and may add this to my CV) as to which was more snort-inducing.

    So glad to have your regularly scheduled not-blog back. Concussion situation clearly didn’t inflict lasting damage to your writing abilities. Or your sense of humor.

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  18. Oh my word. You DO lighten up a person’s day.
    You writing is special. Let me count the ways.
    Eighteen eighty at least.
    Really glad Iris is better. Glad you took her for another opinion.
    I laughed and put my hand over my mouth, said oh no, then was glad to read you were alright after the bench upheaval .
    Laughed out loud that the unoatmeal was pancake batter and you loved it.
    Correcting someone’s criticizing comment of you, as you did.
    Shining hedgehog funds on your porta potty. That was some good clean double entendre there.
    There are SO many , I can’t rewrite the whole post or it will be nigh into the next century. Suffice it to say I loved it all.
    Thanks.

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  19. Hedging my funds and porting my folio was enough of a laugh to get a whole day started, but the pancake batter and “that woman and kid” and the see saw incident made tears come to my eyes I laughed so hard. Also “IV, not four.”

    How did this vet know what was wrong with iris? Is it a different kind of vet specialist or was it just a matter of an additional 376 tests? I ask because I have my first cat now. But my vet seems to know a lot more about my dogs than he does the cat and I wonder if I should switch.

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  20. ONE of your days is just packed with fun, compared with my boring coughing self.
    So glad that Iris has medication and will be on the mend.

    Lovely post, lovely June!

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  21. Thank Madonna and child that I didn’t choke on the apple I was eating. I almost died. You should come with (more of) a warning. I’m not sure I have ever laughed this much while reading a not blog. I swear I was laughing with you at your wit and writing, not at the situations. Your attitude and take on life is great.

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  22. Thank you for the Iris first knowledge.
    Now back to the regularly scheduled June’s life read, not drivel.
    Fun and frivolity. Cat,dogcat antics and on the way down here to comment , I saw a Ned/cat photo. I am sure this will be an interesting read today.
    Take care.

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  23. June, I think the pancake batter is ridiculously packaged and I would also end up eating it as oats. And loving it.

    IV not four was also great!

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  24. Even more than Iris being on the road to recovery, I love that you told a detractor that the correct word was drivel. Hahahaha!

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  25. Iris is OK (ish)!

    You ate delicious pancake batter – the new breakfast of champions™ – which was good, because it prepared you for your barbecue lunch launch! Blame the concussion, it sounds plausible.

    This whole post made me laugh out loud. A lot.

    If I had 2 nickels to rub together I’d drop them in the tip jar for the vet bill, but since I very much don’t, I’ll just say that I very much appreciate your sharing your stories to brighten our days. Which I realize is not nearly as good.

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  26. So happy to hear that Iris is on the mend. I also (too) found you through Purple Clover, which I rarely read anymore since their merger with another site. As I sit here with not one, but two broken feet, I so relate with your bench tipping. Maybe it’s a Karen/Carynn thing. Now I want pancakes.

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  27. Great post. Medicating cats is the worst. We had one that could hide a pill in his mouth forever and then spit that thing all the way across the room. Glad Iris is doing better!

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  28. Oh my god. I cannot even with your life. Don’t you love when people say that? “I can’t even!” But seriously. This whole post would make an excellent episode on a smart and funny sitcom.

    I am so happy Iris isn’t giving up the mortal coil just yet. She too pretty to be DED.

    Love you June. Don’t ever stop.

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    • This is exactly how I read the post … It was like a film in my head. I’m so glad I wasn’t drinking my coffee when she keeled on the bench. Omg, I laughed so hard … The visual!!!

      This was one of the best posts this year (except for Iris being sick, of course!).

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  29. I’m so glad Iris is feeling better. Hopefully she’ll get back to her murder-y self soon!
    I must admit, I laughed picturing you doing the bench flop (hope nothing was bruised but your ego).

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    • I’m so sorry I laughed like a hyena when you got benched. The picture you painted was just too much to enjoy. Glad you had no actual hurts from your flip!

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  30. “….two and a half angry eyes among them.” Awful, and yet hilarious.

    SO very glad Iris is feeling better. And also getting some delight that she is difficult to medicate. I can’t even CATCH Phyllis, so God help us if she ever needs any medication, and Albert has the patience of an (un-named) saint and can hold that pill under his tongue for hours. Possibly days. The little fucker.

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  31. I honesty don’t know which part of this post is my second-favorite. (Obviously Iris being OK-ish is the best part). It’s a toss-up between drivel and the bench.

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