For the most part the symptoms of my recent Covid infection have either abated or in most cases, disappeared completely. Each group seemed to have arrived and departed in waves. Just when I thought I was completely out of the woods, Covid brain arrived on the scene. This is a fun one. I first noticed it while trying to decipher a fairly simple email detailing instructions on how to proceed on a project I was working on. I read and reread the information. In spite of willing my brain to absorb what was written, the data kept seeping out of my left ear and disappearing into the atmospheric continuum. Finally, I had to call the client and have a phone conversation to get it to sink in. Duh and double duh. Not that I can’t be dense times, I most certainly can. However, these were not instructions on how to build a nuclear device, it was how to lay out a flyer, something I’ve done a hundred times before.
I began to notice myself having more than usual blonde moments over the next few days. I made the coffee as I do every night before retiring, but neglected to put the pot under the machine after filling it with water. This would have been less concerning had I not come out half awake the following morning and pushed brew without noticing my omission. Whoops.
Yesterday I took stupid to new heights while trying to take Boo, the queen of cats, to the vet. I have been in my new house over two years. Time to find a new vet, and past time to update vaccinations and to get her a general well check. Vet visits, I have to say, are not something Boo is a fan of. This lack of enthusiasm often spreads over to me. The vet I made an appointment with was recommended by a friend. Though not having been to the office before, I had a general idea of the location. The woman on the phone explained due to Covid, owners no longer accompany their animals inside. Instead they pull into a numbered parking space and call the number provided them when they arrive and animals are retrieved by hospital employees . Works for me. So, I pulled into the parking lot a few minutes early, and didn’t see any numbers by the parking spot I was in, or any parking spot. Odd. I dialed what I believed to be the correct number off my recent call list. The person on the other end answered “hospital”, to which I responded, “Hi, I have my kitty waiting to be picked up but I didn’t find any number by the parking space.” Silence, followed by a little more silence. Finally, I broke the stalemate and said, “Hello”? I believe the operator wanted to ask at that point if I was on drugs or needed to be directed to the psychiatric ward, but instead responded “ma’am this is a hospital”. I was thinking to myself, “Your point would be?”, when she said, “We don’t see kitties here. “ Oh, like a real hospital, for humans. A light went on in an otherwise dark corner of my brain. I had called them yesterday about another Covid test and their number was one below the vets. Whoops. My bad. Looking at my recent call log I located the right number and called it. This time a friendly voice answered, “animal hospital”. Bingo. Once again I explained I had my cat in the car, but didn’t see any numbered spaces. The young woman said she’d be right out. After several minutes, still no one emerged from the building. My phone rang. Apparently the vet assistant was standing outside her building and unless she was transparent or Boo and I were, something was amiss. Drat the luck. I asked her to repeat the address please. Sigh. This was indeed a veterinary hospital just not the one where I had an appointment. Apologizing to the world in general for my dingyness, I pulled out and went in search of the right address. Thankfully, I pulled into a parking lot full of numbered parking spots. Whoopee. Boo was retrieved. The vet called shortly with good news, she’s healthy as a horse (a little vet humor) even bordering on being a little chubby (aren’t we all these days).
The vet, a lovely woman, who took the time to speak to me on the phone said Boo was sweet and wonderful. My Boo? Are you sure you’re looking the right carrier? White cat, calico markings, evil grin? Truthfully, I have to say she is picture perfect when in the vet’s office. I swear, if asked to open her mouth and say “aah’ she would. They give her a pill and she swallows it politely. They send me home with the same cat and the same pill and a little pill gun to shoot it towards the back of her mouth, and it takes three men and a roll of duct tape to get it into her stomach. Amazing. When she had surgery on her ear they put one of those collars around her neck to keep her from bothering the incision. Right. My “sweet” pussy cat took her head and banged it as hard as she could on any hard surface available until it was completely unusable. When I took the tattered remains of the collar back to the vet and asked what I should do, they looked at me as if I was somehow incapable of managing my animal. Really? By the time we hit the third collar they were looking far less skeptical.
This vet today told me Boo was in perfect health but would need her teeth cleaned. This information made my teeth clench. Her teeth were cleaned seven years ago and it is expensive. This will be my Christmas present to myself for the next seven years at $100 each year. I should have purchased that vet insurance when I was thinking about it. The vet asked if I brushed her teeth. Uh, no. She went on to say they don’t expect their cat owners to do this, because if bitten they could get an infection and the fact that the animal is dead set against it ends up being traumatic for the animal. It takes me an hour and stealthlike precision to detail to get Boo into her crate, the likelihood of her sitting still while I’m prying her mouth open and brushing between her teeth ranges right in between 0 and sub 0. I’m just saying. I can’t even find a groomer willing to bathe felines due to their aversion to, well, just about everything they don’t want to do. When the drawing for felines was still in the designer phase back in the beginning, they must have added the feature of cats cleaning themselves knowing this would be a problem down the road.
So, we are back home. Boo is stuffing those little chubby cheeks with her treat for acquiescing to being cared for. Bless her furry little snout.
Leave a comment