And We're Off

They all made fun of me.

I had to drop the kitties off at the vet today, for a seven-day vacation while we're out of town. Normally, we have a cat-sitter come by and check on them, but Moo-Kitty is having some bathroom issues, and we would certainly come home to a stinky mess.

I couldn't just "drop them off" and take off on my merry way. I wanted to sit with them for a minute, show them around their new home, put them in the cages (they get to share a double, thank goodness), and pet and talk to them, make them calm. Or make me calm.

Okay, so I asked a lot of questions. Who checks on them over the weekend? How often? How much do they let them out to play? Etc, etc.

Okay, so I had to be tugged out reluctantly. I'm comfortable leaving them at home ... they are familiar with home. Maybe lonely, but comfortable. I've never left them away, at the vet, or anywhere else. So it was tough.

And when we were back at the receptionist desk, J proceeds to make fun of me to the receptionist. And then play the baby card: "Can you believe she's pregnant with twins? We're never going to be able to leave them. She'll be a nervous wreck." And on and on. Ad nauseum.

Well, excuse me. Somebody was raised on a farm (not me). Someone (moi) treats pets like members of the family.

I know the the comparison may be crass, and probably not equal, but these kitties are my first babies. They have comforted me through tough times, through lonely times. They put a smile on my face when nothing else will. They allow me to nurture, to take care. They keep me warm, and their purrs sooth me into sleep. The anger and frustrate me, but I love them.

So, there. And yes, I will be calling to check on them while we're away.

We're off for a week's vacation. I've packed up a stash of books, magazines, movies, and games. And pursuant to Emma's recommendation, I've loaded up on yarns and instructions, and am determined to be a master-crocheter by week's end.