To those of you who care about the writing or care about the knitting, I apologize. Apparently this is a cat blog for now, and that’s just the way it is. So there.
I love that stupid cat. Had you noticed?
Took him to the vet this morning — and they kept him there for a few days. I HATE that, but I also know that he’s in the best place. They’re putting him back on the IV for fluids and pain medicine — hopefully if he’s hydrated and in less pain he’ll quit straining on the box and start eating again (he’s lost another whole pound, down to 7.1 — good god, that cat got up to 19 pounds once, a long, long time ago when he was depressed and trapped inside). And if he starts eating again, he can have his surgery on Thursday.
Anorexic Digit, looking for his cell so he can call his agent
But for now his hospital room at home (the front porch) is sadly empty and I miss him and I feel awful for leaving him there again.
You know what is a very, very, very nice part? The fact that I drove away crying a little bit, but ONLY over Digit, and I have no worries, none at all, about financing this. I am taking the advice of many people — holding on to the money (in a kind of paypal escrow) until Digit is all good and better, and only THEN donating the rest. But you’ll be the first to know when I’m donating, and how much. I can’t WAIT for that day. Because if I’m donating whatever overage there might be from your lovely generosity, then Digit is sound and healthy and in good spirits.
Or dead. That does cross my mind, that he might not make it, after all this, after his epic trek home. (Did I tell you about his claws? His massive, always curled under no matter how much I clipped them, claws? And how now they’re tiny little straight spikes from being worn down from walking for four months?) And honestly, I can’t bear to think about it, so I’m putting it out of my mind once again. That cat HAS to make it. Forget my brief forays into Buddhist study, THIS GUY IS GONNA LIVE FOREVER. And me saying it, yeah, that’ll make it so. Right?
Cat blog. See? And I’m not apologizing.Oh, wait, I already did. Well, all right.
For those of you who prefer people and dogs and knitting and all things that aren’t cats, I will briefly tell you about Bolinas. On Saturday, the Whoreshoes had a gig at Smileys. Oh, Smileys Saloon on the beach. Red Silvia came with her posse and my friend Nate took plenty of pictures with her camera. It strikes me now that she was a trooper for lending it to him.
I celebrated my birthday there, because I like to spin out my birthday as long as people will let me, and I even made a guest appearance! I sang "Once Again ‘Round That Dance Floor" by kd lang, and people seemed to enjoy it. Of course, there was bourbon involved (not me, them), so who knows?
And I FORGOT THE FIRST LINE. I hadn’t been practicing because my throat had been hurting all week and I assumed we weren’t going to do it. But on Saturday, I suddenly felt better, and we decided to move ahead. I sang the song over and over to myself in my head. I was only having trouble with remembering the second verse and moving into the break. The first line, WHICH IS THE TITLE, no, it never crossed my mind that it COULD be forgotten.
I sang a little phonetic "do wee deee oh flow yeah" thing that sounded like the right song dubbed in the wrong language, and then I got it back and didn’t have another problem. The cute part was that Lala was standing right next to me, and sang the rest of the song softly so that had I forgotten again, she would have cued me. It was very sweet.
And there were cupcakes. Hooray!
Get a Free Short Story!
Subscribe to get a free copy of Socks for Alex, a Cypress Hollow Short Story, compatible with all devices!