time makes all wounds scabby and gross

In case you hadn't noticed, I've been in a bit of a hibernation lately. Though it might not be a hibernation, as technically bears sleep when they hibernate and I, for the first time in my life, have been having trouble sleeping. Apparently losing a cat unexpectedly is a far different kind of grief than losing a cat to cancer. It's the kind of grief that keeps you up at night. Thanks to the makers of Bacardi and Dimetapp (and no thanks to my prescription plan that refused me access to sleeping pills), I made it through the roughest patch. Also, I know bears don't actually eat when they hibernate so I guess I had everything backwards. My body now feels like a toxic waste dump - full of take out, dehydrated from tears, sore from inactivity - but maybe that's just what I needed to finally get motivated to get back on the path to my skinny jeans?

Anyway, if FedEx is on time, tomorrow I will be able to put what remains of my cat in this stylish black marble urn. I think he would like it. Like him, it's black and exotic and heavy for its size. And it's got nice corners for rubbing your face on. Suze Orman would not approve, of course. Like the pie safe, I definitely cannot afford it, but it cost less than many of OC's recent vet bills...

Speaking of, my Orange Cat is adjusting to his role as Only Cat. He's home a lot more, laying out in the open instead of cowering in hidey holes. Though he thoroughly appreciates not getting beat up anymore, he apparently had no idea how much of the snuggle tax his brother paid on his behalf. He's now enrolled in a full time remedial snuggle class. He particularly did not enjoy the "Love Sandwich" lesson. He prefers to sleep with his head hung over the edge of the bed, not in between two massive humans who could roll over and squish him. And though he's always been generous with his belly in the past, it is not a limitless resource. He left in a huff after a recent belly lesson.

Though my beloved Erik scrubbed the massive blood stain, I can still see it from my seat on the couch. We considered trying bleach or hydrogen peroxide, but now I'm perversely attached to the stain. I found myself getting defensive when some people parked on it. Silly, huh? And the other night a miniature schnauzer stopped to investigate. Somehow, though I hate Trixie dogs (remind me to tell you about the night Trixie tried to kill me...), I found it touching that someone in the animal world was acknowledging Blackie's demise.

Anyway, Erik and I are seriously considering bringing another black cat into the home. It seems a little soon, but when you think of all the cats suffering in shelters (especially our shelter - the local paper finally did a story on the atrocities there...) it seems a shame not to spare at least one soul (even if he might someday get runned over). Selfishly, I've also looked outside the county and found a half Bombay (Blackers) and half Siamese (Fabian) in foster care in Mission Viejo. I doubt they'll adopt to me (those organizations are all about the indoor only households), but he looks like the perfect mix of snuggly and evil. I could lie, of course, and tell them he'd be indoor only, but I'm a really horrible liar (and I want to be a lawyer why?). I could also just keep him indoors, of course, but it would be difficult as OC needs to go out to get his exercise (allegedly it keeps his poop flowing, though today his condition is suspect...) and Erik likes to open the house up for oxygen. I do see where all you indoor only kitty mamas are coming from. I'm just not sure I'm ready to join your ranks.

Right now I am off to my chiropractor. I love love love my chiropractor. She's not like your chiropractor, I assure you. She's extra especially magical as she does something called the Graston Technique which is very akin to tenderizing meat... She's done wonders erasing years of waitressing, bad posture, and stress from my back and today I definitely have some fresh stress for her to erase...