I had big plans for today. I was going to get up early, starting laying out my strings and stakes so I'd know where to dig the rose beds. I was going to get my bangs cut at Masako's and then go shopping at either a nursery for plants or the mall for shoes. I was going to be home by four because Trish Number One is coming over and we're going into the city together for Jen's party which starts at five. I need to wear something pink and sparkly with good walking shoes, something that will allow me to walk the very steep Nob Hill as we make our way up to the Tonga Room.
Instead, I went to the vet. Natasha injured her tail again.
It seems to have happened while I was having dinner with Doug Faunt last night. She was probably wrestling with Keiko; they really go at it sometimes. I noticed when I got back from dropping him off at the train station that she wasn't lifting the tail all the way. It lifted to a certain point and the rest of it stayed limp. So this morning we went to the vet and she got x-rayed, but not before she threw up all over her cat carrier while we were about 2 miles from the animal hospital. Poor little creature, a busted tail and cat barf all in her long hair. She managed to get it on the car seat, too. On the way home she threw up again so I let her out of her carrier and she sat in my lap drooling and panting. It was gross, but I felt terribly sorry for her.
The x-ray shows no sign of a break, so it was probably a slight dislocation and simply popped itself back into place, overextending the tendons. She'll be on anti-inflammatory medication for a week. She hates taking pills, I'll have to see if I can hide it in wet cat food which she normally does not get to eat. Or tuna, maybe. She loves tuna but I don't know if she'll love it twice a day. Neither Natasha nor I are happy when she has to take pills.
And now if you'll pardon me I have to clean up me, my clothes, and the car. Thank god cats don't hold much volume when it comes to food.
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