Stuff

[altivo]

Took dog and sole remaining cat to vet today. Cat was due for vaccinations, though at age 19 it hardly seemed right to put her through that. She has lost more than a pound since last year, and in spite of our efforts to keep her stuffed with food. Now just four pounds. I think the most she ever was came to under eight, but four! She's truly just skin, bones, and purr now. But she still gets in laps and purrs.

The dog was the larger bill, even though he needed no shots since he had those last fall. He had blood drawn to check thyroid, since he's on daily medication for it and hasn't been rechecked for 18 months. More blood for a heartworm test. Thyroid prescription refilled, and a year's supply of heartworm preventive which is really outrageously expensive. I looked at what's in it: ivermectin and pyrantel pamoate, the two cheapest deworming drugs used for livestock, both of which are long out of patent and widely manufactured.

Weather was mostly unpleasaant, gloomy, chilly, and drippy. Tess was unhappy about not going out to the pasture, but she hates being rained on. Tomorrow will be busy, but should be better overall.

Except Gary's going to Indiana in the morning. I used to revel in being alone, having hours to myself. Now I dread it. What changed? When did it change? I don't even know.

Comments

[hrrunka]

I've had my sister and her family staying, and then spent a week in Paris with them. Now they're back in Australia and I'm back home, kicking my heels, and trying to figure out what I should be doing...

[lhexa]

Took dog and sole remaining cat to vet today.

If it's any consolation, every new pet you raise with love makes the grounds a better place for subsequent pets. Most recently in my mother's tiny Dallas house, she was talked into (ahem, with some help) adopting three kittens from a huge litter, one black, one grey, one designer-bred. I named them Courage, Truth, and Love. Courage was killed by the next-door watchdog about half a year later. Then my mother brought back a stray (but very friendly) mother cat from her newly rebuilt school, along with its one surviving kitten, now named Valor. The watchdog killed Valor's mother. I later realized that this dog was the killer of my most beloved childhood cat, Ninja Ryu the Shadow, who made it to twelve or so years. The man with the watchdog was forced to move after the other next-door neighbor threatened to shoot the malign dog with a pistol. In the meantime, my seven-year old dog Brahma, a giant Great Pyrenees, German Shepherd hybrid (found in a box by the road), has somehow become the arbiter of all neighborhood barking, despite early arthritis. Love is now a consummate indoors cat, Truth a consummate outdoors cat, and only my mother knows how to approach Valor.

*chuckles* A small refresher, there, on the importance of symbolism.

[altivo]

I try to avoid giving pets symbolic names because they always seem to end up being utterly inappropriate. Most of our dogs and all the horses have come to us with names already attached. Cats don't seem to care what you call them as long as there's food and warmth.

[lhexa]

*chuckles* Ironic names work just as well for me. My longest-surviving cat (also black) was alternately named Fuzzbucket and Roman Nose, depending on the family dynamics of the moment. My first well-loved dog was Zackaroo. But if you've raised a type of animal long enough, I can see how you would have moved beyond the need for names -- coloration at first, then habits and mannerisms, would suffice. I'm mainly curious about when, in a person's life, that familiarity sets in.

*coughs embarrassedly* Pardon the excess commenting tonight, I was almost completely cut off from the Internet for the entire last month.