Lark on wing, snail on thorn, etcetera
Toast is home now, and looking remarkably lively considering what she's been through. The worst bit was a couple of nights ago, when the vet told us that she had stopped breathing at about 2:30 in the morning, that they had gotten her revived and her heart rate was back up, but that she would need a blood transfusion. That part was bad.
After all that, though, she rallied, and recovered so fast that she surprised everyone at the clinic. She's due for a follow-up exam in another week, and we have to give her antibiotics twice a day for the next month (which the Professor and Jack Spade will be stuck with, since I'll be back in school), but she's acting a lot like her old self. In the right mood, she'll sit on your lap and purr, but mostly she seems to be just as cranky as ever. It's pretty miraculous.
Some of the relatives have been very anxious to explain to me why it's vitally necessary that I register for wedding gifts. Tonight the Professor and I went to a number of stores to see if there was anything we would want to register for. The problem is that neither of us ever actually shop in the kind of stores you register in, and the idea of having tasteful matching bed sheets and window treatments is entirely foreign to my nature. I'm not really sure what to do. After staring for some while at an imposing wall of neatly folded towels, we agreed that it would simplify things considerably if we could register at McMaster-Carr instead.
Tomorrow we have a meeting with caterers.
After all that, though, she rallied, and recovered so fast that she surprised everyone at the clinic. She's due for a follow-up exam in another week, and we have to give her antibiotics twice a day for the next month (which the Professor and Jack Spade will be stuck with, since I'll be back in school), but she's acting a lot like her old self. In the right mood, she'll sit on your lap and purr, but mostly she seems to be just as cranky as ever. It's pretty miraculous.
Some of the relatives have been very anxious to explain to me why it's vitally necessary that I register for wedding gifts. Tonight the Professor and I went to a number of stores to see if there was anything we would want to register for. The problem is that neither of us ever actually shop in the kind of stores you register in, and the idea of having tasteful matching bed sheets and window treatments is entirely foreign to my nature. I'm not really sure what to do. After staring for some while at an imposing wall of neatly folded towels, we agreed that it would simplify things considerably if we could register at McMaster-Carr instead.
Tomorrow we have a meeting with caterers.