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perfect in every way
Jul. 21st, 2007 01:45 pmWell. Ursula has wandered off to the airport, to fly to Washington DC and thence to Rhode Island. I asked her a little wistfully to do her best to take a shit in Washington for me, by way of political commentary; she promised to have a coffee on the plane and see how it went.
We cooperated to get Chita to the vet yesterday morning for her initial appointment. She explored the waiting room, not very afraid; after the friendly and interested dog had left the room, she settled down, ate a treat, played with the toy mouse we'd brought her, and then requested to be let out the door that led into the interior hallway, which was the one opposite the one we'd come in. Once she noticed that there was a high window into the receptionist's area, while I was filling out her check-in slip, she began to ask to be allowed up there. It was a little too high for her to jump, but if one of us picked her up, she would attempt to jump from us over to there. The receptionist found this adorable, and proclaimed her the cutest kitten ever.
The vet tech came to lead us to the exam room, and in the hallway there was an agitated giant poodle making a racket and jumping around. Chita clung tightly to Ursula but did not claw, and when we got into the exam room promptly got down and began exploring the counters, her tail a bottle-brush. The vet tech compared her visually to a squirrel, with her little gray body and her tail so puffed out. He also admired her bravery, for such a young animal, and professed her the cutest ever. He was amused by her name.
The vet himself came in in a moment, introduced himself, and palpated Chita extensively. She didn't struggle or misbehave, though she was more interested in sticking her nose in the jug of dog biscuits than in being palpated. To listen to her heart, he turned her on her back like a baby, paws in the air, and held the stethoscope to her abdomen, closing his eyes and moving it around almost meditatively. Chita was at first fairly relaxed, but after a while grew bored and started playing with the tube of the stethoscope.
They did take her away and stick needles in her, which is probably better as I've seen a lot of beloved pets stuck with needles in my day but didn't really need to watch the process again. But they brought her right back.
She's twelve weeks old, and two and a half pounds. She has a mild case of roundworms, so they dewormed her, and gave us a free sample flea treatment to use just in case. In all other ways, she is the perfect specimen of ideal kittenhood-- her coat is excellent, her eyes and teeth are excellent, her heart and lungs are excellent, her internal bits are excellent, and her socialization and upbringing are perfect, as is her temperament. She's the perfect kitten.
Which I knew, but it was nice to be told.
In other news, Ursula and I have been to every shoe store in Erie County, initially on a quest to find her a pair of shoes for this posh wedding she's attending, but then I got into it too. Now I own about five pairs of shoes I can wear to work, almost all of them by Steve Madden, I don't know why but somehow they're just comfy. Most of the shoes have open toes, which is of limited utility, but I did get one pair of boots that make me look like a Victorian-era whore. They're high ankle, with a tall narrow heel and giant eyelets. I don't know why i love them so, but I do, and Ursula bought an identical pair so I feel more special.
I think tonight will be spent sitting around in idleness. I did rearrange and partially clean the living room, but I can no longer endure it being pale purple. I also don't think I can endure the basement entryway being pale seafoam green any longer, either-- the living room rearrangement necessitated the removal of the basement door, which means that the entryway to the basement is the first thing you see when you come in the house's cramped side entrance (which is the only usable one, as the front door has no key and can thus only be open from the inside). It's ugly and needs to be some other color. I want blue, but blue doesn't go with anything we own, more's the pity.
Also I've never seriously done any painting on my own, so...
I actually really wish I had the patience to deal with the woodwork. All the nice wood trim in the house is painted high-gloss white, which I think is hideous, but what am I going to do, strip it all? I doubt it.
We cooperated to get Chita to the vet yesterday morning for her initial appointment. She explored the waiting room, not very afraid; after the friendly and interested dog had left the room, she settled down, ate a treat, played with the toy mouse we'd brought her, and then requested to be let out the door that led into the interior hallway, which was the one opposite the one we'd come in. Once she noticed that there was a high window into the receptionist's area, while I was filling out her check-in slip, she began to ask to be allowed up there. It was a little too high for her to jump, but if one of us picked her up, she would attempt to jump from us over to there. The receptionist found this adorable, and proclaimed her the cutest kitten ever.
The vet tech came to lead us to the exam room, and in the hallway there was an agitated giant poodle making a racket and jumping around. Chita clung tightly to Ursula but did not claw, and when we got into the exam room promptly got down and began exploring the counters, her tail a bottle-brush. The vet tech compared her visually to a squirrel, with her little gray body and her tail so puffed out. He also admired her bravery, for such a young animal, and professed her the cutest ever. He was amused by her name.
The vet himself came in in a moment, introduced himself, and palpated Chita extensively. She didn't struggle or misbehave, though she was more interested in sticking her nose in the jug of dog biscuits than in being palpated. To listen to her heart, he turned her on her back like a baby, paws in the air, and held the stethoscope to her abdomen, closing his eyes and moving it around almost meditatively. Chita was at first fairly relaxed, but after a while grew bored and started playing with the tube of the stethoscope.
They did take her away and stick needles in her, which is probably better as I've seen a lot of beloved pets stuck with needles in my day but didn't really need to watch the process again. But they brought her right back.
She's twelve weeks old, and two and a half pounds. She has a mild case of roundworms, so they dewormed her, and gave us a free sample flea treatment to use just in case. In all other ways, she is the perfect specimen of ideal kittenhood-- her coat is excellent, her eyes and teeth are excellent, her heart and lungs are excellent, her internal bits are excellent, and her socialization and upbringing are perfect, as is her temperament. She's the perfect kitten.
Which I knew, but it was nice to be told.
In other news, Ursula and I have been to every shoe store in Erie County, initially on a quest to find her a pair of shoes for this posh wedding she's attending, but then I got into it too. Now I own about five pairs of shoes I can wear to work, almost all of them by Steve Madden, I don't know why but somehow they're just comfy. Most of the shoes have open toes, which is of limited utility, but I did get one pair of boots that make me look like a Victorian-era whore. They're high ankle, with a tall narrow heel and giant eyelets. I don't know why i love them so, but I do, and Ursula bought an identical pair so I feel more special.
I think tonight will be spent sitting around in idleness. I did rearrange and partially clean the living room, but I can no longer endure it being pale purple. I also don't think I can endure the basement entryway being pale seafoam green any longer, either-- the living room rearrangement necessitated the removal of the basement door, which means that the entryway to the basement is the first thing you see when you come in the house's cramped side entrance (which is the only usable one, as the front door has no key and can thus only be open from the inside). It's ugly and needs to be some other color. I want blue, but blue doesn't go with anything we own, more's the pity.
Also I've never seriously done any painting on my own, so...
I actually really wish I had the patience to deal with the woodwork. All the nice wood trim in the house is painted high-gloss white, which I think is hideous, but what am I going to do, strip it all? I doubt it.
