Or words to that effect.. So, the three little Redlets slept beautifully last night. Red, however, did not. This was in part due to time spent digesting the massive Singapore Udon/Prawn Toast mountain which I tried to cure the hangover with. (This never works and simply drags out said hangover. When will I learn? Oh, wait..that sounds familiar.. ). It was also possibly due to the nightsweats I suffered; a classic Red detox. But it was mainly due to my very poorly cat, who took up residence under the chest of drawers in my bedroom, and spent the night shuffling round in a dejected fashion and occasionally yowling at me.
Yesterday, I noticed the poor creature hadn’t eaten for over 24 hours, and was looking decidedly “peaky”. And he’d pulled a lot of fur out too. I took him to the vets, only to discover he had a massive abcess on his lower back, helpfully concealed under all the ginger fur. The vets were quite shocked at the size of it. And I started to add two and two together, and realised that the bastard thing must have been brewing for about 2 weeks. Poor, poor little sod.
Anyway – he had it lanced today back at the vets. They were still talking about it in wonder when I collected him; I think the entire staff had been and gawked at the unfortunate creature. All this got me feeling extremely guilty. I really should have noticed his decline, as looking back it was fairly obvious, but I was too busy having “fun”.
I also had to prepare said cat a place to recover on getting home, and this involved me moving the mountain of paperwork and “stuff” which had accumulated over the last 6 months or so. You know, that stuff that comes through the letterbox requiring action, and all the kids paintings that come home from pre-school, letters from school, severed dolls heads etc etc. It’s horrendous – it’s actually four separate heaps of crap and I’m slightly scared to start going through it for fear of what I’ll discover. Probably a map to some lost city, or a new strain of mold that will trigger the zombie apocalypse.
So. Upshot of all this is that I’m not good at taking responsibility for things/cats when I’m drinking. In fact I’m an out and out hassle-avoiding hoarder. And so I’m looking forward to getting some more Shit Done during this new period of sobriety. And also being a better pet-owner; for any animal lovers out there reading this, the cat is now safely back home, with a bag of antibiotics, and massive wound-drain. Oh, and my utility room now looks like something out of one of the more nightmarish Hieronymous Bosch paintings. Some may say this is a just revenge. I will be purchasing guilt-laden cat treats tomorrow..