this is your seal on drugs

I don't think I've ever been happier to see a seal seize than I was on Sunday when ICBM (named after an inter continental ballistic missile), who turned from utterly unresponsive on the beach to super scary aggressive in the carrier, finally threw herself into a fit. Having learned my lesson on Nashville (who I see is not on the website and therefore not likely in this world...), I remembered to bring the good drugs to the beach. But, no, she didn't seize then. Not while she was all nicely entangled in the net. That would be too easy. Instead she waited until we got her back in the pen where she could, you know, run all around and bite things. Anyway, we were just deciding how to approach her safely when she threw her head back and had the biggest seizure I've ever witnessed. Often we see the whites of their eyes (which is, I believe, a band of connective tissue). This is the first time I've seen the red that lays beyond. Heartbreaking, but a relief, as we knew she needed meds and had no other guarantee that we could get them into her.

After we got her nice and stoned, she stayed pretty well zonked until, of course, I came back to give her her evening Phenobarb. Like on the beach, she went from totally flat to totally bonkers in an instant. Only then did we realize she was acting nonvisual. (Not a good thing, as blind sea lions can't fish. This is the reason Swansong, who was rehabbed and actually scheduled for release, didn't make it to the ocean again...) You would think that it would be easy to sneak up on a blind seal but you'd be wrong. A blind seal is a scared seal. And therefore a scary seal. So I had to call in reinforcements at 9 pm. With four people (instead of two) we were able to get the job done, but it wasn't pretty. Is it mean that I'm a little jealous that she was well behaved for her morning Phenobarb? Lucky Monday crew. Anyway, I see she's on the website which means she's been admitted. Perhaps this means the nonvisual thing was temporary?

Speaking of temporary, it seems that OC's lucky streak of free flowing feces is once again coming to an end. Gee, how long has it been? Shall we check the calendar? No need. Just refer to the credit card statement. It's been exactly one month and one day since his last incident. And before that? Well, that was in May, so we'd made it just about two months, our longest stretch since this whole nightmare began. We also have had visits in April, March, and January. Could my sister actually be right that this has become a quality of life issue for him? I mean, it can't be fun to have giant fingers up your butt once a month.

Really, I thought she was just being cheap, setting herself up to back out of our unwritten contract. You know, the one where she promised over fondue and cocktails that she'd pay his butt related bills if I would just give him a home. Well, now that those bills are up to $1441 for the year ($1031 of which is in dispute - $614 incurred before she advised me to kill him, $417 since...) we seem to talk about anything but OC. I'm sure she considers her advice to be pragmatic. At worst it could be called clinical. And frankly, I can see where she's coming from. She puts animals out of their misery every day, often over a lot less money.

But for me, it's just harder to swallow. I'm his mom, perhaps the only person in the world who cares about him. I'm supposed to be on his side. And I am. I totally am. I mean he's not my favorite cat. I'll admit that. Even people moms have favorites - they're just not allowed to say. I think we all know that his evil sexy brother is in many ways more beloved. But not favoring him is a far step from killing him just because he's expensive. And gross. And broken.

Who's to say if the 29 - 59 days he spends without giant fingers up his butt don't balance out the discomfort? He truly enjoys killing and eating things. Just the other night he brought in a mouse (which, I guess thankfully, was still alive so I stepped in and set it free...). This cat's got game. And he seems to dig the narcotics he gets after the enemas. He's always very affectionate which, I now know is a side effect, but still. It must be fun. Why else would all the kids these days do Ecstasy? (Do the kids these days even still do Ecstasy, I wonder? I'm so old...)

On the other hand, he literally lives in fear. The jihad is always on. On like Donkey Kong. So much so that I sleep with a Super Soaker in the bed just so I can better break up cat fights in the night. But I never squirt OC. I know it's not his fault. He works so hard to give me love. He literally risks life and limb to be near me. Even now, he is at my side while his brother bangs on the door wanting to kill him. How do I repay that with poison?

And look how cute he is. Could you kill this face? He's much more photogenic than his brother. And besides, I'm still just 2 and a half years out since last I lost a cat. I'm so not ready to mourn again. Oh, imaginary internet friends, what should I do?

Well, I guess it starts with the vet, eh? This time I think I caught it in time to avoid anesthesia. So it should only be $100, not $300 or more... And I had to go there anyway, to pick up more meds, of course. I knew there was a reason I didn't run that errand while I was out today. I sure hope the beaches are quiet tomorrow as I am once again in charge of the seals. I'm thinking I'll get a call, though. I always get a call. And Wednesdays are historically busy. And apparently it was quiet today. Add to all that an errand and it's just getting irresistible to the fates. If that package weren't already enough, I also have a lunch date...

So I guess it's off to bed with me (and my Super Soaker). But if the cats are trapped in, no one will sleep anyway...

On a much happier cat note, I am pleased to announce that my dear pal Wendy's renegade escape artist cat, Lou Pucci, has been returned to his home. I don't think I told you the tale, but he was missing two weeks. In the city. And he's an indoor kitty. Much like OC, Lou's not her favorite, but as I recall from OC's time away, that almost makes it worse. Anyway, Wendy is smart so she set a trap. And Lou got hungry enough to use it. So hooray. That's two successful missing cat stories in one year. An inspiration to all...