Cats and brains

My goodness. Want to hear about my day? Yes, I'm sure you would be THRILLED to hear me complain for a while, and being the lovely obliging girl that I am, I'll indulge you!

I spent four hours studying today after class. Four hours! What a good student, right? I was feeling very proud of myself as I drove home, thinking about how nice it was that I would just get to relax all night since I'd gotten my studying out of the way early. So I pull up, and there's Conrad (scroll down for a picture) waiting on the sidewalk. Nothing new there. But when I got out of the car and leaned down to pet him, I realized that he had a HUGE GAPING HOLE on the very TOP OF HIS HEAD!! Blarg!! The fur was all matted down with gooey pink cloudy stuff around the cavernous wound, and I immediately thought of brain juice. Brain juice. Even though I've been poking at brains for two weeks and learning all of their ins and outs and know perfectly well that there is not, actually, any such thing as brain juice.

But my suspicions seemed confirmed when I (irrationally) thought that he was acting funny, and started trying to figure out exactly which of his gyri were leaking out of the top of his head to make him so loopy. Panic time!

Clearly I had to rush him to the hospital, which I did. I was hoping that my favorite vet would be there to give me a price break, but you can't worry about these things when you have a cat leaking brain juice all over your car seat! So off we went (I figured I could get there faster than an ambulance), trying to keep myself from bursting into tears. I know he's technically just a stray, but he's fabulous! He's always around to get some lovin', even when food isn't involved. He needs me.

I managed to keep the waterworks back long enough to talk coherently to the ladies at the front desk, who seemed, if I may say so, a little too calm for the gravity of the situation. But they were very quick, and soon we were in an exam room being fussed over. Whew. Turns out it wasn't brain juice (the doc was kind enough not to tell me I'm an idiot), but it was definitely a bummer of an injury. Once he got it all shaved and cleared out, it looked like a gigantic...well, hole in his scalp. The lady at the front desk said she thought a mocking bird must've swooped down and pecked him (?), to which the vet said "Yeah, or maybe it was Somali pirates" (insert "you're looney toons" look here).

But the best part is that the wound needs to be flushed twice a day. I figured, no big deal! Just squirt a little sterile shit on it and you're good. But when I asked him to show me, he stuck the syringe INTO THE HOLE and wiggled it around. We're talking between scalp and skull. Should be a fun morning.

Anyway, home I came ($60 lighter) to put the invalid to bed in the laundry room (his customary home). I filled up his food and water bowl, but when I went to turn off the hose, it would not. turn. off. At all. I know I'm not the butchest little blonde around, but I know how to turn off a damn hose, and this spigot was having none of it. I twisted, I pried, I pliered, all to no avail. And then my pliers broke. This was clearly not my afternoon. Luckily my landlady came to the rescue (she was there in ten minutes--how awesome is that?) and saved the backyard from being completely flooded by working magic with tools that I've never even heard of.

I decided to end the night by eating as much of a large peperoni pizza as I could and guzzling beer, which has worked wonders for my psyche. What is it about highly processed pork products that always puts a smile on my face?

Thanks for listening. You were a very satisfying audience. Here's a picture that a) always cheers me up and b) reminds me why I never mind spending lots of money on vet bills to keep my kittens kickin'.

(via you-know-where)