State of the Author: Harried

Wow. Just too many balls in the air.

So far this week, I’ve had two feral cats to the vet for different issues. The first one, our little Steve Rogers kitten (my husband named the litter this time, so we have a bunch of furry, hissy little Avengers) had to go in for a severe upper respiratory infection. The fact that I could scruff him tells you how low he felt. I came home with antibiotics that we’re mixing in either wet cat food or baby food, and hoping for the best … because I can’t medicate him. The good news is, he and the other kittens (as well as mama) are chowing down on it … and while it means none of them get the full abx load, they are at least not going to be harmed by it. Plus, they are still comfort nursing at 12 weeks old, so they’re getting it through mama as well.

Our local TNR service is still shut down pending permission from the state to open; I will be *so* relieved when they do.

This particular adventure meant that I could not get my oil changed and do a small grocery shop, which I need for this weekend (more on that in a moment).

Then, last night one of our ferals (who tends to thinness anyway) showed up downright emaciated. He wasn’t interested in food, and his stool was disturbing (I won’t gross you out). Luckily, D’Artagnan adores me. I was able to pick him up, crate him, and take him to the emergency vet. Now, of course, I can’t go in with him … and he kind of freaked out in the exam room with a bunch of strangers. However, the emergency vet is The Cat Whisperer, and she was able to calm him down to do a full exam. Temp, organs, etc., all normal. However, he has intestinal parasites. She administered a broad spectrum oral dewormer. My instructions were to bring him home, keep him inside for the night, and offer him baby food to eat because that’s easy to digest.

Okay. I raise our son on the phone, and he goes to the store for chicken or turkey baby food while I come home with D’Artagnan. I set up a hospital in the bathroom, with water and baby food in dishes, and let D’Artagnan out of the crate. He is clingy and frightened, so I go get a pillow and lie down on the floor with him. He goes to sleep three times, wanting to touch me each time. The third time, my tired old ass gets off the floor and goes to bed.

An hour later, there is a serious disturbance going on in the bathroom. D’artagnan is in the shower, trying to get out the window, knocking shampoo bottles off the shelves. At some point, he stepped in the baby food … and I still keep finding patches that need to be cleaned off.

Needless to say, he’s put back in the crate and taken outside again, where he proceeds to eat some baby food and go to sleep.

I went back to bed after 3 AM, and woke up at 6. Our son’s friend, who has been staying with us, looked at me and said “Do you really have to be up right now? Because if not, you should go back to bed.”

I went outside to see D’Artagnan first. He came trotting up, ate a good amount of dry food, broke wind (a side effect of the dewormer), and trotted off to do something else.

That something else involved hunting down and bringing me an enormous alligator lizard that he’d just caught (the poor thing was still squirming). He subsequently dispatched and ate it, so I guess his appetite is back.

This is the second critter that I’ve been brought by a feral in as many days; yesterday, Julius gave me a dead mole. Apparently, I need lessons in providing!

So, all of this is happening while I try to prep for a road trip to see my mom. She’s been struggling with isolation since the shelter-in-place began. After my dad passed, she was doing okay because she could see friends. Well, now she can’t … so I’m driving up to Oregon early tomorrow morning to spend a week with her.

My husband is out right now getting the oil changed in the car and doing my grocery shopping. Why? Because I finally said “I can’t keep all of these balls in the air, between household responsibilities, day job, the cat emergencies, and trying to write.” So, today he took the day off to help me.

And that, my friends, is why I am harried. It is also why blogging will be a little “off” for the next week or so. Do follow me on Instagram if you aren’t already. Adventures will mostly be documented there.

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