the day innocence... got cut off.

and i do mean innocence... and i do mean cut off.

yesterday, as in the 17th day of january... i took my little napoleon to the vet to... to... get him fixed *gasp*

first off... i got a lift from br's mom when she was on the way to work first thing in the morning and droping his little sibling off to school.
the driveway at the vet's is increadibly stoopid and people were getting stuck and abandoning their cars in ditches and tow trucks were everywhere. just to get fluffy and max and beasley to the doctor! people wandering around, shirts and shorts torn, filthy and sweaty with that desperate/crazy look in their eyes... you know how it goes...

anyway. we were in a rush and of course because we were in a rush the girl at the counter was taking her sweet f*ing time with the lady before me who's massive freakin black dog had something wrong with his legs.
and then when it came my turn she whisked my little angel off without so much as my having a chance to give him a good luck smooch good bye :( i was distraught. they also didn't leave with him the towel, pillow and toy i so lovingly placed in his carrier for him becuase they wouldn't let me leave the carrier.

spent the day crying into my proverbial beer, reminiscing about the good old days and how it used to be (wait he's not dead... he just can't have babies! woohoo!)... the usual crazy cat owner stuff. poor rat... stuck in a cold one by two foot cell (or something like that i don't know what those cages look like but they aren't very snazzy i can bet you that) and he didn't even have his mouse in a ball!

so we go pick him up after i knock off. and i have to wait forever because the crazy vet lady behind the counter is soooooooo loooooooong winded and it's driving me nuts. (she's really crazy i mean... this lady is island known for her craziness... she writes letters to the paper every week and does rain dances on the parlaiment lawn and stuff like that) but the attendant went to get him. he came back emptyhanded and was like... "you said napoleon right?" and i was like... yea!
i mean... what would i do if they gave me the wrong cat? sure i'd love and nurture him as my own but my napoleon!

so anyway they finally bring him out and i pay. i was expecting it to cost me like $400 or some insane ludacris amount because people were telling me it was ludacrisly expensive to get them fixed... but it only cost $65. bonus!
poor naps... he was so out of it. talk about drugged up like a mother fucker. we got him home... he sorta hung out in his little carrier for a bit... like..."yea ... mom... i'll be out when i can get the fuckin room to stop spining. stop spinning room!!"

and then he stumbled around drunkenly for a while, which really worried me. cuz he was all... one foot here one foot there trying to sniff my finger but he couldn't get his head to stay still...
"stop moving your finger! jesus christ i'm tryin to smell it man, what the fuck?!"

he was noticably angry with me cuz he didn't want me to pet him *sniffle* and he didn't really want to eat but he couldn't help himself trying to jump onto the nightstand to eat my roses. he's obsessed with the roses i don't know what it is.

anyway. he passed out on the bed for a long time and only woke me up twice this morning when he jumped on the counter and knocked my water bottle over and when he knocked the candle and glass thing over in the bathroom.

he's all shit and giggles now... thank god we only had to go through that once!

o. p.s. br got fired on saturday. it was totally not his fault. okay maybe a *little* bit his fault but really it wasn't his fault. that's a post for another day. maybe tomorrow.
here napoleon shows off this late model half completed alien illusion scarf that he just can't get enough of. notice the relaxed pose and come hither stare.

"goddamnit how many times do i have to ask you to get that fuckin camera out of my face..."

"huh... wha? what? o... you. and. that. damn. camera."