Stream of Consciousness

I've been feeling pretty random today and came up with this:

What would it be like to be George???

I watch him do the funniest/randomest/craziest/cutest/weirdest/grossest things every day. These include, but are not limited to:

1. Eating bugs 

2. Chasing Strings

3. Staring at running water

4. Hiding under the dishwasher door

5. Using a litter box

6. Biting feet

7. Running furious laps around the house

8. Curling up on my lap every time I go to the bathroom

9. Rolling/Playing/ Sleeping in piles of dirty clothes

10. Dragging all his favorite toys out to the middle of the floor

11. Smacking at me through the shower curtain

12. Catnapping in strangely contorted positions

13. Knocking the keyboard out of mine or G's lap so that he can claim that spot

14. Making noises at birds, people, dogs, cats through the windows

15. Wrestling with the front door mat

16. Trying to open and then unlock the front and back doors

If I were George, would I really do some of those things? I'd like to think that if I were him, I would be above eating bugs or biting feet. I definitely don't see the attraction of a pile of dirty clothes versus a big comfy bed or couch. Though, I could definitely get used to all of the catnaps and getting lots of cuddles.

Oh Poor Mister Georgie

Poor Mister Georgie got neutered today. And micro chipped, and nail trimmed, and vaccinated, and eye-gooped. Since the first few are rather self-explanatory, I'll explain the last. While George was under anesthesia, they noticed irritation in his cornea. So, they added these fluorescent drops and shined a black light on his eye. They found his had a corneal ulcer- in other words, he had a scratch on his, either from getting to happy when he was scratching or just from being brushed in the face and not closing his eye quick enough when he was being rambunctious. Hence, the antibiotic eye-goop. Other than that, everything went very well, and they commented on how very sweet my little boy is.

When I got him home, I left him in his carrier but propped open the door so he could come out on his own terms. He stayed in awhile, asleep. When I went to take out the trash and left the front door, that was enough to tempt the sneaky little bugger halfway out of his cage before he promptly laid back down and just watch, and momentarily, passed back out. A while later, I was standing in the kitchen eating and in walks George- I figured he wanted a little food and water. Nope! He wanted the fly that was buzzing around! The little black terd.... I'm pretty sure he managed to catch it and eat it before he promptly fell back asleep. It's like having a narcoleptic cat. However, I noticed that his back side was wet along with parts of his tail and hind legs. When I checked him, I realized the poor little guy had wet himself while he was asleep in the carrier.

Poor Mister Georgie has had an all-around tough day.

Though its been nice to be able to keep a few window wide open to let the breeze blow right through the house.

Futher updates on Georgie's condition tomorrow after he gets pain meds and dewormer goo- yum!

My Clumsiness Wasn't Left Behind in Ky

I was thinking of a way to start this when I rubbed my eye and winced and muttered, "Ow!"...

I've always been a bit accident prone/clumsy. Every vacation I've had in the last few years has produced some sort of bodily injury: slipping on a wet street resulted in a softball size bruise on my hip; falling on and getting run over by my own jet ski resulted in a huge gash and bruise down my leg; playing beach volleyball with a soccer ball resulted in loss of my entire big toenail; walking through the streets of London, I almost got run down twice, one of those was by a double-decker bus. Need I list more?

As any cat owner knows, cat's just up your chances of some sort of accident- tripping and falling, stuff of that sort. Well, I have a new one to add to my list, thanks to my furry little George.

NOTE:  George loves the bathroom; he likes to jump in the sink, in the tub, and yes, the loo. Don't ask me why, 'cause I don't know... Also note that a man designed my house- the loo is right inside the door and the door swings in, in front of the loo.

WHAT HAPPENED: I was trying to get out the door to go to my Spouses' Pajama Bunco night so I'm running around trying to close all the windows and get my keys and such. I don't know where the bathroom will be when I get to the squadron so I will listen to my mother and go before I leave. George has followed me upstairs and runs into the bathroom ahead of me. I'm in a hurry so I hastily lift up the lid, taking no note of the position of the door, and rush to sit down before George can hop in...
WHAM!!!! goes my eye at full speed into the metal door knob- eye being the prominent bony part of my left eyebrow just above the eye.

So now, every time I touch my eyebrow, I wince, gasp, grumble, and mutter words which I will not repeat here. Though it is a not a black eye, it is still very red and swollen and very tender.

Thank you, George, man who designed my bathroom, and wonderful clumsiness of my own.