
I have so many things to blog about-our trip to Mendocino, hiking Half Dome with the cables down, the wedding (I'm so far behind)-but right now I have a deadline for myself to get a rough draft of my book done with Thanksgiving. I'm getting close. I have 480 pages (scary!). Then I plan to print it out, read it, cry when I see what a mess it is, and come up with a plan for revision. In the meantime, I'll blog about the cat crisis we had the other night.
I come from the gym Thursday night around 10 p.m. to find Dr. Xeno (above), curled up on a sleeping bag on the sofa. This is how I usually find him, curled up on something soft, sound asleep. But when Martin tried to pet him, he hissed and growled and moaned like he was in terrible pain. When we tried to pick him up he howled in such agony that we were sure he had a broken leg. Either he had been hit by a car or he had fallen off the balcony. And when he tried to stand up to turn around, he winced in pain and lay back down. We called the emergency vet, who told us we should bring him in. We got the cat carrier out and lined it with Xeno's favorite blanket. Then, to avoid removing him from the sleeping bag, we instead carried the whole sleeping bag out to the car. While I was sitting in the passenger seat with him on my lap, before I could close the car door, he jumped out of the car and ran away. He was limping when he ran, so I still thought he had a broken leg. We chased him (he ran around the house, in through the cat door, and into the basement where I caught him by the tail as he tried to crawl between boards in the ceiling). Then Martin carried him back to the couch, where he curled up on the sleeping bag and went to sleep. He didn't budge for the rest of the night (he usually sleeps with us), so the next morning Martin took him to the vet. I drove down to the vet, too, as soon as I was dressed. It turned out the only thing fractured was Xeno's ego. No broken leg, no mortal wounds, NOTHING. Just a big melodramatic pussy. And later that day he was fine - FINE - as if nothing had happened. Martin's giving him antibiotics every day, but what I think he really needs it to toughen up, learn how to fight. If Bustopher were around, he'd teach him a few things.