Well, that certainly was a month! And for the first time in years time moved so slowly, I thought last week had been two weeks until Lynette assured me otherwise. Not that things have been all bad. In fact, some really great things have happened, too. It’s just been a lot of stuff, and you know how that goes. I’m not sure I even remember it all, because I was pretty much out of it for a few days. (Really? Only days??)
First of all, I finally made the heart wrenching decision to re-home Nigel. I’d started looking two years ago, but the person I wanted to take him had two dogs already and not enough room for a third. He’s always adored Laura and always went nutzoid whenever she came over. He never acted like that with us. I must add that the feelings were mutual between them so I’d decided that if she couldn’t take him, we’d keep him and just make it work. When she came over New Year’s Eve she reminded us that she’d moved to a place out in the county southwest of town and now had lots of room, and if we were still looking for a new home for Nigel she’d take him. The following Saturday she came over to get him. He was just a little happy to see her.
So amid the tears and instructions and last-minute hugs and licks, Nigel left our life to begin a new one with Laura. The really great news is that he’s happier than he’s ever been. He has a brother and sister to play with, room to run outdoors, and a mom who doesn’t mind getting her face washed every time she comes home.
The biggest problem we had with Nigel was his incessant barking. A week later, when she dropped by, she told us he’d barked a total of three times. THREE times. I love Nigel, and I’ve gone through no end of guilt feelings and mournful tears, but the truth is, it just wasn’t a good fit for either of us. We’ll see him, though. After about three months have passed we’re going out to see him and then Laura will bring him with her whenever she drops by. We’ve also offered to dog sit him if she ever needs us to. So I guess this now makes us his grandparents or something. It’s all good, and life is considerably quieter and more serene with just the two cats.
Enter our eldest cat, Lowrider, who was our only child before Nigel and Mozie. Sussing out that she was once again the alpha animal around here, she almost immediately reverted back to her pain-in-the-ass habits. But we reminded her that while she’s the alpha outside, we’re the alphas inside.
I got a ba-a-ad toothache (right as I was recovering from that Christmas cold), which quickly developed into a full-blown infection that sent me to the hospital emergency room, where they gave me a shot of elephant grade antibiotics, some pretty lightweight painkillers, and prescriptions for penicillin and Tylenol3. The latter helped a little, but when I woke up the next morning I looked like a prize fighter complete with swollen cheek, upper lip, nose (just what I need, right?), and a black eye to boot. I have pictures, but I’m reserving my right not to show them to you. Trust me. They’re hideous! Well, ok. Here’s one of the pix, but resized so small, you can just see how bad it was. Don’t bother clicking it. That’s a close as you’re going to get, bucko.
By the next day I felt a bit better and the swelling was down a little. Enough that we decided to go ahead with our plans to have friends over to play Cards Against Humanity, our new guilty pleasure. We had a lot of fun, but because I was on penicillin, I couldn’t drink. To tell the truth, I didn’t want to; I still felt pretty miserable. I’m sure I was just as miserable to look at. As the week progressed, of course, I got better although I’m still dragging where energy is concerned, and I swear I could sleep all day and night and still be tired. I don’t let that happen, though. Despite taking the selfie above I do have some small degree of self-respect.
Good news came in on our trip to England in…what…15 months. It’s at last confirmed that the funds will be there. No, we didn’t win the Powerball. I promise.
I know other things have happened, but right now I just can’t recall… I missed my nap today.
Yeah, and all the celebrity passings. Jeeze Louise! Can you believe this shite?
4th: Robert Stigwood (producer)
5th: Pierre Boulez (composer/conductor)
6th: Pat Harrington, Jr. (One Day At A Time)
7th: Richard Libertini (actor in many films)
10th: David Bowie
14th: Alan Rickman, René Angélil (manager/husband of Celine Dion)
16th: Dan Haggerty (Grizzly Adams)
17th: Dale Griffin (Mott the Hoople)
18th: Glenn Frey (the Eagles)
24th: Jimmy Bain (Rainbow, Dio)
28th: Paul Kantner (Jefferson Airplane)
As far as the musicians are concerned, I can only imagine that John Lennon, George Harrison, Buddy Holly, Elvis Brian Jones, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, et al, extended and invitation to join them at rehearsals for an upcoming heavenly Woodstock revival concert. I’ve gotten to where I kind of flinch when I see a celebrity’s name hash tagged. But you know, life’s iron wheel keeps turning and as long as it’s not coming at me, these days I’m pretty optimistic.