You should pardon the expression, but it was, you could say, a shitty way to start the day…
Long-haired cats are beautiful but long hair can be problematic for a cat, as it can be for a person. I know because for almost half my life, I had long hair.
Come to think of it, it continued to be a problem even after I had shortened it. But I digress…
Willow has medium-length hair, but around her legs she’s quite fluffy and it was immediately obvious to me when I wished her good morning that it was not particularly good, as far as she was concerned.
Cats are fastidious and Willow is especially so. She had a “cling-on”, which she was trying to remove by dragging her butt across the floor.
She allowed me to approach, but interfering with her hind quarters was out of order. She let out a howl of indignation and shot across the room.
On the fourth attempt, I nailed her and it with a sneaky lunge and a firm yank.
A brilliant start to a day that would include discussions about my own butt 😦
As in follow-up appointment to the ischial bursa injection…
“What time must we go?” asked Grant last night.
“Have to be there at 1045.” said I.
“0945, then, maybe 0930 to give an extra few minutes.”
Grant cannot abide being late. Neither can I, but he over-compensates. Anything to keep the driver happy.
At 0915 this morning, the car was in the driveway, set to go. I was ready, so why dither. Off we went.
Needless to say, in spite of all the drivers that conspired to get in Grant’s way, we arrived far too early.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” asked Grant.
No comment. Only two cars were in the lot, so I left Grant to chat on What’sApp with his buddy in Ireland, and went in to complete another pain evaluation form.
As I was doing this, a lout entered.
It was obvious he had a historical worker’s compensation injury follow-up.
It’s not for me to guess whether he was still suffering or just malingering, but I recognize the type.
His paperwork was lost somewhere and with cases of that nature, nothing happens without paperwork.
Clearly, he was not pleased and he went huffing out to his car where ensued an altercation loud enough to rattle the door.
Back in he came with the recipient of this diatribe, who he continued to berate roundly, telling her that she was “a terrible person”, never mind that she was sorting out his problem.
This kind of thing strikes a sensitive chord with me. I fixed the man with one of my darkest looks, but he was so self-involved that my laser darts were wasted.
As was the speech I was preparing to deliver in my best scorching British accent, because at that point he was admitted for consultation.
It would have been a waste of breath and the lout’s wife seemed unfazed by his uncouth behavior.
Still, one thing is good. Not so long ago this situation would have upset me, reminding me of times past.
This morning I was content to launch virtual arrows.
Oh….and my butt…..we still have a couple of treatments to attempt, so next week another injection, different target and if that fails…yet another.
The pain management lady is so nice. It cheers me up just to talk to her and I don’t mind being a pin cushion. There’s always hope.