My cat Stevie was throwing up a LOT....I kept telling myself it was just a reaction to being able to eat grass again..but finally realized a vet visit was in order....Poor baby-- peering out of his carrier which I had placed on the car seat next to me..looking like it was a ride to a death camp. Once there, the staff in the waiting room soon tired of the high pitched MEOWs filling the room. We were shown to a small room to wait for the vet. The vet tech came in first..and I answered her questions AND showed her the throw up I had carefully scooped into a container....which , apparently, was not a clue as it was given the sort of cursory look that throw up deserves. By the time the vet came in, I had thought of a joke...told her that if I had wanted to be there..I would have MEOW chowsers by proxy. Finally, just upset tummy was the tentative diagnosis and an anti-nausea shot was given..along with 8 days worth of pills I was to give him.
I am so happy that he is once again keeping food down...and I have become pretty good at pushing pills down his throat!
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Saturday, April 24, 2010
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
This is one of my favorite poems...makes you realize people are not always what they seem..and maybe not to be envied...
Richard Cory
Whenever Richard Cory went downtown
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
“Good morning,” and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich--yes, richer than a king--
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
Richard Cory
Whenever Richard Cory went downtown
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
“Good morning,” and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich--yes, richer than a king--
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
My 1st entry 4/24/2010
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