I learned a very interesting and sobering thing today......Life's adventures are not all fun and games........beside the joyous, memorable, inspiring, frothy and glittery ones there can be those offering dark challenges and involving a lot of pain and suffering. Yet, these episodes which somberly decorate the landscape of our life's path ARE adventures too.......just of a different kind. And, of course, if you have been hanging around me for any length of time you know that I am going to add the fact that they always have the most precious lessons attached, whether we are ready to learn them or not.
Today's lesson: NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED !
(I thought I already knew that......sob......how many more times, Lois?)
For instance, many of you may be aware that I recently defied my sensible side (I don't know about you other Astro signs, but Gemini's have 2 opposing halves, one may be sweet, civilized and sensible while the other is raucous, uncouth, unmanageable, occasionally dangerous to one's self and others and quite obviously Batshit Crazy (thanks, Mary Moon)........well, as I was saying, one day 2 weeks ago when I wasn't paying attention I seem to have allowed myself to adopt this here new homeless, needy kitty. Suffice it to say, the very last thing a tottering,schlepedicka old Cat Lady needs, really, is another cat. Never mind......that logic belongs in the world of sanity wherein I obviously no longer dwell.
Having spent the past 2 weeks rushing around closing some cats into some rooms while encouraging other cats into different rooms.......then reversing the procedure, juggling innumerable food dishes and kitty boxes into places they have never been before and shouting useless commands like, "No, no, don't you spit at her!, Stop growling you silly cat!. I'm telling you, she won't hurt you, why don't you believe me? (and most importantly) Lois, now is the perfect moment to commit yourself to the funny farm!?", I am merely a tattered remnant of my former self.
Not only do I find myself tenderly hand feeding this weak and frail little creature as she lounges in my bed, but I have finally allowed myself to realize that, despite my current somewhat anemic finances, what is really needed here is a trip to the Vet. And what THAT means, aside from the horror of ending up having to administer the dreaded pills and droppers of liquid meds, is my complete and utter mpoverishment. Antibiotics, subcutaneous fluids, Xrays, Blood Tests, heat treatments, coldpacks and no doubt psychotherapy........... I see the remains of my vast fortune,which was somehow not totally decimated by all my previous cats, disappearing down the gullet of this little gray waif who, even as we speak, is no doubt waiting impatiently for me to appear and hold under her chin her 8pm Smoothie (Friskies' Mixed Grill blended with homemade chicken broth to just the right sipping/lapping consistency).
Lest you think that I exaggerate, I must tell you that I have just returned from Vet Visit #1 clutching the dreaded antibiotic and a receipt for a down payment on the National Debt. Poor baby has an undetermined infection, a fever over 105 and was badly dehydrated before receiving subcutaneous fluids and a shot of antibiotics.........................
Does anyone doubt that psychotherapy lurks very far behind? The question is.......
for whom.....her or me?
The New Yorker covers: March 17, 1934
9 hours ago