Possumblog

Because if you're going camping...

...you simply MUST get your hair did.

The car with the remainder of my family was going to the beauty saloon so Reba could get her hair cut and colored and for Oldest to get her hair cut. Because a good coiffure is so important when you're wallowing in a sleeping bag and standing in bonfire smoke.

::sigh::

Whatever.

Rebecca and I went home and got the first part of the supplies loaded up--snacks for the campers (ours and everyone else), sleeping bags, plates and cups and junk, did some laundry (since no one had any clean blue jeans), and generally puttered around until everyone got back.

AND, once they got back, sheer bedlam. No one seemed in any great hurry to pack, even though they were going to try to leave early so they could arrive before dark. Add to this a certain unstable oldest child who took it upon herself to start screaming and slamming her brother's bedroom door because he was tapping on his practice drumhead.

I love my family, but I have to confess it was something of a relief when they left out. Especially Miss Screamy McMelodrama.

Anyway, leave they did and it was just Cat and Daddy.

We rolled Lightning's pen around and put it in the garage so he'd have a place to sleep for the night that wasn't outside, did a few more loads of regular laundry, and then went to get him from the vet.

He seemed to be just fine; in fact, much more active than I know I would have been given a similar state of affairs. Or lack thereof.

Anyway, the nurse gave me his papers for his microchip and a bag with three thin syringes of pain medicine. "I--uhh, but I don't know how to give him a shot!"

"No," she said gently, as one does to a mental defective, "they don't have a needle--it's oral. We just put it in a syringe so it's easier to give it to him."

"OOOhhhhh."

They brought him out, and I tried to find out if there were any special instructions. Not really, it turns out. For all the loot he'd just cost me, they seemed to be unconcerned if he stayed in or out, ate or didn't eat, was warm or cold, high or low, up or down, or even if he took the medicine they'd charged me for. It's almost as if he was nothing more than a CAT! Hmph!

Anyway, into the car with him, then to home, where we let him quiet down a bit in his carrier in the kitchen. I think this was more for my benefit, though. He seemed ready to go play.

Later on when it was time for supper we put him in his garage apartment, and settled in for the Long Weekend of Daddy and Catherine.

Posted by Terry Oglesby at November 13, 2006 11:14 AM