The cat came back. . .again. . . .

August 31, 2011


The last day of August.

Where did the summer go?





Right this minute I am blogging sans cereal or coffee.

Fasting bloodwork is on the books for 8.30 am.

How come, when I can eat as soon as I wake up I can dawdle, doing this and at there, roaming here and there.

But give me a morning, fasting bloodwork appointment and ALL I can think about is coffee and fiber cereal with yogurt.





Sleep was as elusive last night as coffee is this morning.

3.57 am my eyes popped open like a jack-in-the-box.

Frankie hogging the bed.

Stephen's melodious cacophony beside me.

Joined by the Hallelujah chorus emanating from my knees.

Losing weight has been great for my knees.

Additional exercise, especially walking, not so much.

So while I resolutely refuse to stop my downtown rambles, I do pay for it in the wee hours of the morning.

Normally, I can take a Celebrex and fall asleep with the knowledge that the pain will abate.

Fasting bloodwork, alas, prevented that from happening.

Resulting in me laying there thinking of all the things I should get up and do instead of laying there hoping to get back to sleep.

Part of my sleeplessness may be the panic brewing in my subconscious over not having any course syllabi's ready.

And classes start a week from tomorrow.

Guess I know what I'll be doing later today.

After coffee, that is.





Today we are driving. . . . . .

A 2006 red, Ford Focus station wagon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After all the rigmarole Monday at the dealers, they call Tuesday, just before lunch as I was trying to finish the noon deadline project to inform us the car was repaired and ready for take off.

Really? I replied incredulously. I thought there wasn't a part available in North America?

Well, he responded, when we opened the parts shipment, there it was.

Meaning we could say GOODBYE to the wretched Dodge Caliber and return to the comfort and familiarity of our family-friendly Ford Focus.

Funny how the prospect of paying for a rental car for who knows how long can make the impossible, possible.

When I returned the rental car, the agent asked me what I thought of the car.

I hated it.

He asked me no more questions after that.





Yesterday was Em's last day of her Empire Theater vacation.

Which meant it was an Em and Mummy Date Day.

Well, date afternoon by the time we got the car all sorted out, noon deadline reports in, and building manager snafus addressed.

Literally, Stephen and I pulled into our driveway, in the Focus, and I got out of the passenger seat to plop myself into the passenger seat of the Elantra.

Date days always mean Em drives.

First we headed to Swiss Chalet for lunch, her treat, for my birthday.

Over lunch, my sly little Bunny brought back to the forefront an issue that had been boiling over on her back burner.

The white cat.

The same white cat who came a-visiting to our home a few days before we left for our vacation, disappeared, reappeared to be taken to the SPCA by our neighbour.

When we heard where the cat was currently residing, we felt relief in knowing that it wasn't our roaming the streets of our neighbourhood.

But saddened that it was locked up behind bars at the SPCA.

In a momentary lapse of judgement brought on by exhaustion, Stephen said out loud in front of Em the Cat Whisperer,

If he's still at the SPCA when we get back from vacation, we'll adopt him.

Had we not been in public, I may have acted on my urge to smack him across the back of the head.

Because he signed, sealed and delivered his fate.

We would be getting another cat.

Em may not remember to clean her room, or that she has math homework, but there is NO way she was going to allow that little tidbit of info to fall into the dark recesses of her mind.

And she didn't.

While munching on Caesar salad and a chicken club wrap, Em shared her itinerary for our afternoon.

A movie, of course.

Fright Night.

With an SPCA detour prior to seeing the film.

Inwardly, my heart sank.

She hadn't said anything about it, so I, stupidly, thought she had forgotten about it.

I knew better, I was just hoping.

Paying our lunch bill, she practically flew to the car to get herself to the SPCA.

But there would be no going anywhere until she filled her gas tank.

A brief interlude at the PetroCan and then off we went, racing down the highway and then through our neighbourhood, which provides a short cut to the SPCA.

Me sitting in the passenger seat hoping, praying, Stephen didn't drive past us, and then turn around because he was wondering what the hell we were doing here when we were supposed to be at the mall.

Arriving at the Fredericton SPCA, Em practically launched herself out the car, ran inside the building and assessed in a matter of seconds that the cat, who had been named "Bones" was indeed sojourning in the SPCA cat room.

Knowing he was safe, we had a much, much bigger hurdle to jump.

A six foot four hurdle to be precise.

Stephen may have said with all sort of conviction that we'd adopt the cat before we left for Murray Corner.

But actually doing it was an entirely different story.

He was not happy to pick up the cell phone and hear I was at the SPCA.

In fact, my NOT going to the SPCA is one of the only things where he adamantly puts his foot down.

WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING THERE? he asks.

Followed with, HAVE YOU BEEN TO SEE ANY DOGS?

When I said I hadn't left the reception area, he was somewhat mollified.

Without revealing the details of our rather long conversation, he was not happy, initially, at being reminded of his promise.

More bombarded than reminded.

At the end of the conversation he had come around to agreeing to discuss the issue over supper.

For Em that meant an afternoon of movie watching while outlining her arguments for why we should adopt this cat.

Once home from our date day, she was off upstairs to change her clothes and bring down a notebook where she outlined a page worth of arguments to present to Stephen over chicken salad wraps and Caesar salad.

He was impressed with her organization, her arguments and by the time dinner was over, agreed to open our home to another pet in need of a home.

I was impressed with his willingness to follow through.

He is such a good guy.

A great guy, actually.

My great guy to be exact.









This morning, several minutes before the SPCA opened, Em and I were in their parking lot waiting for the CLOSED sign to become the OPEN sign.

And twenty minutes later we were pulling out of that same parking lot with the all white, Persian looking cat with the piercing green eyes.

Houdini is his name.

For good reason.

Luckily he's microchipped so if he happens to escape, we have some chance of getting him back.

But we plan on reforming his disappearing ways.

We managed to do so with Goblet, we have the experience and more importantly, the will.

Now all we have to do is muddle through the adjustment period.

And then prepare for the moving in and introductions of cat number 4.

Mer's cat.

Jasper.

Let the games begin!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




Title Lyric: The Cat Came Back by Fred Penner