09.24.2003 || 09h55

Okay, let's do this...

So I called the vet and said I was bringing Tarot in as soon as I have the money. A few of you have offered to help me out, so it's not going to be as impossible as I thought.

A couple of things changed my mind. I guess I was looking to legitimise spending $500 on my cat, but maybe just a wee bit afraid of the spectre of Feline Leukaemia (which was a term bandied about quite a bit last time Tarot got ill like this). Then, there's the fact that he could just have a blockage somewhere, or it could be a virus, or... you get the picture,eh?

Well, the excuse comes in one very dismal little package. You see, I'm supposed to force-feed the little guy this awful nutrient goo every few hours to basically keep his liver from failing and to keep him, well, alive. He hates it, and we tend to get as much of it all over him and us as we do in his mouth (but at least he's figthing us now, which means that the pills et al are working), not to mention the crap we have to go through in order to get him to swallow his pills, but the biggest issue I have with this is that Tarot starts to quake whenever I go near him now, and I just can't take the fact that my lovely boy is afraid of me.

Funny, eh? The desire to know just what the hell's wrong with him wasn't enough to make me beg, borrow or steal the money, but seeing fear in his beautiful little face kicks me into gear.

I don't know if that makes me a bad owner or what, but I know that I want him better, and I want to know if it's something terrible, or just that he's a little fragile.

You guys with your chequebooks and great big hearts are our heroes right now. Tarot will never figure it out, but *I'll* never fucking forget it.

||Gods save the Queen,

back || forth

older shite

One last little note... - 09.21.2006

de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006

Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006

More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006

Scary stuff - 05.25.2006

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