Thursday, July 27, 2006

Currently the only lady in my life is a six-year-old, blue-eyed, pure white cat with a deformed tail. Her name is Sabrina. Today, I had to take her to the vet for a deep teeth cleaning. She was showing the beginning signs of Gingivitis. First, I had to make sure she didn't eat anything after 6PM yesterday. Around nine last night, she noticed there was no food in her bowl and she started talking to me. If you have a cat, you know what I mean. She seemed to forget after a while. Today is my day-off from work which is why I scheduled the vet appointment for today. Anyway, I had planned to sleep-in a little. That was the plan. 6AM I wake to Sabrina standing on my chest and her nose almost touching mine. In cat talk, I'm sure she said, "I want my breakfast." I slept for a little while longer then I got up and showered and shaved. Sabrina followed me everywhere.
I think she was irritated with me. I mean, after all, I only have four jobs in her world and none are difficult.
1) Fill food bowl.
2) Fill water bowl.
3) Clean sand box.
4) Scratch neck and occasionally tummy.
How could I forget Number 1? "Dumb human. You were trained better." At 8AM, I slide Sabrina into cat box. Now, she's not disappointed in me. Now, she's mad. I carry her blue box to the car. Now I've really done it. I've forgotten to feed her, I've put her in the box, and I've put her in the car. Sabrina is no longer mad, now she's pissed and telling me at the top of her little lungs. Then we arrive at the vet's. Inside the office, the howling ends and tiny whimpering begins. I feel like the meanest man on the planet. I sign the papers and the assistant takes Sabrina into the back. I supposed to call them at 3PM to see when I can pick her up. I keep repeating the chant, "She's a cat. She's a cat." Doesn't work.
She's my cat and I like her.
I wonder if she going to be talking to me tonight. I wonder if she's going to come anywhere near me.
C'mon, three o'clock. I miss the furball.

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