Oh, hang on. Let me get my phone so I can stimulate you visually.
I drove to Chapel Hill-ish to get my cat yesterday. Technically it was Carrboro, a town I’ve given literally given zero thought to until they became radiation central for me. My point is, I’ve now been there twice and I just love it. Apparently it’s sort of a college town, as in college students live there. But it was bustling with your white liberals and there were little odd shops and you know I enjoy bustling liberals in theory unless I’m at the co-op grocery store where all those slow-moving hippies can bite me. I guess bustling liberals become crawling liberals once they see a hot bar with kale.
Anyway I think I’d like it there, although that whole Raleigh/Durham/Chapel Hill area is getting absurdly popular and expensive and is it a matter of time before the wealthy come ruin Greensboro as well? Go someplace else. Don’t bother me. Or better yet, stop moving places. Just stay rich where you are. Stop ruining it for normal people.
It rained a little on the way there, but only in that way where you constantly debate whether to turn on the wipers for real or just do the as-needed routine. Then I got there and pulled in and called for cat curbside service. It was like A&W only with cats and not coney dogs. “Can I get her on a little tray? Do you have root beer?”
As soon as they brought her to me I immediately got her out of the package, thereby ruining her resale value, and took a photo of us for posterity. And Facebook likes. ‘Tis what I live for.
“I missed her so much!” I screeched to the vet tech who’d brought her out, with “Iris Gardens” typewritten on her carrier. Not that the tech had a carrier. Or Iris Gardens written on her.
“I imagine you did,” said the tech, who had walked out and not been brought to me in a carrier. Was I clear on that? “She’s pretty much perfect.”
She’s not wrong. Other than lacking one or two workable eyeballs, Iris is the perfect cat. Friendly but not a barnacle, she says to the kitten in her face right now.
Anyway, as usual Lily acknowledged the return of Iris—with whom she’s lived for 9 years not counting being in jail together at the shelter—not at all. It’s not that they dislike each other, they are just invisible to each other. Like, once a year one will groom the other. Then it’s back to, “I only gray cat heer. wat you meen?”
Eds was delighted to see our Iris, as Eds is delighted to see any cat. I walked in on this last night as I came back to bed not at all with cookies. Hey, I’m single. I can do what I want.
Anyway, she seems great. She already looks more filled out, Iris does. And she’s not screeching for food constantly as she had been.
Thank you all so much for donating to her radiation treatment. Her life is gonna be so much better now.
As for Forest Lawn, kitten to the stars, he immediately began following Iris about as she wandered sightlessly from room to room. I was convinced she’d rear back and hiss but she kept not doing so. Finally, they came face to face and
there it was. The hiss heard ’round the house.
So that went about how I thought it would, and we are all together, and it’s very cat up in here. I guess this is how you devolve into cat lady. First, you get a pandemic. No, first you get a divorce. Then you age. Then you have a relationship that disappointed you. THEN you get a pandemic. Then? Boom. Cat lady.
Ah, well. There are worse things.
Are there, though?
I have to go, as even though I opened my computer early, I am STILL getting work boops while I write you. WHO ARE YOU EARLY PEOPLE?
I’ll write you tomorrow, as I am wont to do, when maybe I will talk about cats. Really, I was wanting to talk about my ADD and new theories I have on it. I think I’ve had it all along and didn’t know and it’s gotten worse and anyway I will talk about it tomorrow. Unless I forget. Like how I forgot I had my trainer last night. Just clean forgot. It’s because I have ADD. And also because I drove to Carrboro and back and got off my schedge. Which makes me ADD-y.
And with that I bid you adieu.