It was this or the "kitteh!" icon, and you'll know why I went with this
So, this weekend, I was out grocery shopping upstate when I got a call from my sister saying that there was a cat outside our house and could she let it in? For a moment, I thought she meant, like, a neighbor's cat (not that I'd know from neighbors' cats because we don't know our neighbors up there), but it became clear, almost instantly, that this was a wild cat. I suggested that she confine it, if that were the case, just so we could check around. Another phone call came right on the heels of my hanging up--during which time I frantically grabbed litter and food for this kitty--to tell me that the cat had porcupine quills in its face. We quizzed people at the store about the nearest vet hospital only to find that the nearest place that would be open was, as everything is, an hour away from us. It was also nearly 10 pm.
You know that line from A Streetcar Named Desire, "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers"? Wow, it's actually some times true. I set off to quiz neighbors--yes, at 10 pm--about whose cat it might be because this cat was a doll. It kept trying to get face and chin scratches and brush up against everybody despite the fact that it had porcupine quills in its face. It wanted love, and it won everybody over in two seconds. I had to find out whose cat it was, so I went door-to-door. One neighbor sent me to another who had a lot of animals, and he, having pulled quills before from his dog, yanked out the quills in three seconds. (While all us fainting females panicked about the barbs, which turned out not to really have been a problem.)
Another neighbor down the hill had his daughter visiting and she worked for rescue organizations. We turned the cat over to her to take to a vet. She? Is a miracle. She drove it around searching for a place that would see her over the holiday weekend. She is so wonderful, and so very aptly named Charity. Bless her. If there's a heaven, surely she's already got a place set aside for her. My mother is already a saint, far as I'm concerned, and she bailed out her kids who found a cat by paying for the boarding at the vet and the medications the cat is still on. Charity and my mother saved our weekend and the kitty, who is now boarding with viridian and hslayer until such time as feiran can pick her up to try taking her home to live with her for a while. I hope she can stay with feiran andecmyers , but even if she can't? There's, like, a waiting list three people deep for this kitty. She's that sweet.
The best part of this--besides the fact that some people might be getting a kitty that's awesome and that the kitty is going to a good home and was saved--is that I can now use this in my personal statement for vet school. Okay, that's not the best part, but I'm still totally going to use it. If I were already a goddamned vet, which I should be, really, as there's no excuse for all the time I've not spent working on that since graduating, I could have taken care of this with so much less fuss. It's strengthened my resolve, if nothing else. Applications, here I come!
Anyway, that's a much better story about my weekend than "I got sick and I hated it." I'm still recovering from the awful cold with the worst sinus pressure I've ever had when sick that has turned into an awful cough that may leave me as voiceless as feiran was this weekend. Let's hope not. I never do well when I can't talk. I'm a talker! I like being heard, damn it!
You know that line from A Streetcar Named Desire, "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers"? Wow, it's actually some times true. I set off to quiz neighbors--yes, at 10 pm--about whose cat it might be because this cat was a doll. It kept trying to get face and chin scratches and brush up against everybody despite the fact that it had porcupine quills in its face. It wanted love, and it won everybody over in two seconds. I had to find out whose cat it was, so I went door-to-door. One neighbor sent me to another who had a lot of animals, and he, having pulled quills before from his dog, yanked out the quills in three seconds. (While all us fainting females panicked about the barbs, which turned out not to really have been a problem.)
Another neighbor down the hill had his daughter visiting and she worked for rescue organizations. We turned the cat over to her to take to a vet. She? Is a miracle. She drove it around searching for a place that would see her over the holiday weekend. She is so wonderful, and so very aptly named Charity. Bless her. If there's a heaven, surely she's already got a place set aside for her. My mother is already a saint, far as I'm concerned, and she bailed out her kids who found a cat by paying for the boarding at the vet and the medications the cat is still on. Charity and my mother saved our weekend and the kitty, who is now boarding with viridian and hslayer until such time as feiran can pick her up to try taking her home to live with her for a while. I hope she can stay with feiran andecmyers , but even if she can't? There's, like, a waiting list three people deep for this kitty. She's that sweet.
The best part of this--besides the fact that some people might be getting a kitty that's awesome and that the kitty is going to a good home and was saved--is that I can now use this in my personal statement for vet school. Okay, that's not the best part, but I'm still totally going to use it. If I were already a goddamned vet, which I should be, really, as there's no excuse for all the time I've not spent working on that since graduating, I could have taken care of this with so much less fuss. It's strengthened my resolve, if nothing else. Applications, here I come!
Anyway, that's a much better story about my weekend than "I got sick and I hated it." I'm still recovering from the awful cold with the worst sinus pressure I've ever had when sick that has turned into an awful cough that may leave me as voiceless as feiran was this weekend. Let's hope not. I never do well when I can't talk. I'm a talker! I like being heard, damn it!