It seems like most of the cat pictures I’ve taken lately are of Koshka. Koshka does the cute pose very well and often, and Kaylee’s cuteness generally comes in the form of astonishing vocalizations.

Kaylee had also begun licking and chewing on one of her front dewclaws. I suspected that it had become ingrown and was now giving her pain, so I called the vet and made an appointment for her initial examination and vaccinations.

Kaylee was amazingly calm about the whole thing — at first. She went into the carrier without a problem, rode in the car without a sound (except a few complaints when we stopped for a light next to a smelly tanker truck), and even greeted the vet and technician with friendly curiosity.

That all came to an end when the vet attempted to take her temperature. Hoo-baby! Kaylee has never liked being man-handled (cat-handled?) by strangers, and she immediately went into screaming-and-slashing mode. The poor technician got the brunt of it, even after they wrapped her in a towel. After five minutes of cat-wrestling, the vet finally got a look at the offending dewclaw, and declared that it was badly ingrown and very infected. They would have to take Kaylee to a treatment area to soak and clean her paw.

So, we waited, and waited…

At last, the vet came out to tell us that the dewclaw was far worse than it had at first appeared, and that Kaylee was too stressed (read: Ms. Heart-of-a-Panther had tried to shred the technician again) to allow them to treat her without giving her anesthesia. As long as they were going to have to knock her out to remove the dewclaw and cut away the necrotic tissue, would we consider having her spayed while they were at it?

Of course, I was all over it: normally it would have taken another two weeks before we’d have an appointment for a spaying. Plus, it meant Kaylee would only have to undergo anesthesia once instead of twice which would be better for everybody’s nerves.

So, Kaylee got to stay at the hospital to have her spa treatment.

Meanwhile, back at the cat box…

Koshka was not exactly missing her mama. Perhaps she remember what happened after her siblings went away in the cat carrier – they didn’t come back. She was just resigning herself to being the sole center of attention. We spent the rest of the cold, snowy afternoon snuggled up together in bed.

Imagine her surprise when the Professor and I returned from another outing the following day with Kaylee in the carrier. Kaylee stepped out of the carrier, looking dazed and confused, and Koshka went into an immediate freak-out with her back arched and tail fluffed out. Kaylee probably smelled awful after having been sloshed with antiseptics, and Koshka was in terror for her life. The kitten was treating her mama like a lit stick of dynamite — and mama couldn’t have cared less. Kaylee retreated back into the carrier to sleep, and Koshka has spent the time since keeping a watchful eye to make sure this alien creature didn’t explode.

Of course, this isn’t quite the end of the tale. Kaylee still needs antibiotics twice a day for the infection, and a pain-killer in the morning. As the chief cat-wrangler, it falls to me to medicate the cat. It may be a while before Kaylee forgives me for the continuing indignity, but, she’ll thank me later…

Right. Panthers have long memories.

However, the thing that really caps it for me is the photograph he uses in his ad when talking about how he’d handled the illegal immigrant problem while Governor of Massachusetts, that he’d given the State Police permission to deal with with them. This one:

It’s all perfectly innocent, well in line with his duties as governor to inspect his troopers.

But, but…

It just makes my skin crawl for some ineffable reason.

He wants to spend more time with his family…..

Yeah, right. If you believe that, I have a nice bridge in New York City that I can let you have cheap.

Meanwhile, I going to reserve my celebration until after the 2008 election. Rove’s resignation is too little way too late. Chances are, even if Congress gets up the gonads to investigate him, his erstwhile boss will whip out the executive privilege hammer and build a nice stone wall.

Anyway, you’d have to be crazy to think that Karl-Baby won’t jump onto the bandwagon of some Bushite-anointed Republi-con presidential candidate to help rape the Democrats yet again. The Swift-boaters will look like pikers by comparison.

Fasten your seat belts and shoulder harnesses, boys and girls, this is going to be one bumpy ride.

Living in a Painting

So, call me mushy; I was moved to tears. But, this is the sort of thing that you can do in SL if you have the motivation.

Police Make Arrest In Bizarre Manchester Bank Robbery - WMUR Manchester

What was this guy thinking? That nobody would notice a tree walking down the street? The robber showed no weapon — I expect the tellers handed over the money because they were stunned by the absurdity.

OK — this is the state with the First in the Nation(tm) Presidential Primary. Are people going to take our opinions seriously when even our criminals are nut-jobs?

(Pardon me while I wipe the tears of laughter out of my eyes…)

Ooookay. I won’t wear fur in Real Life, and avoid doing so in Second Life as well. One of my favorite SL clothing designers makes outfits trimmed in “fur” and it makes me sad. I love animals (see the multitude of critter and cat-centric photos upstream). However, PETA chaps my butt for their extremist views for the general treatment of animals, so this move is giving me pause. I’m not quite sure what to make of it.

I’m also curious about how PETA regards Second Life’s community of Furries — people who would prefer to interact in SL using animal, mostly mammalian and fur-bearing, avatars. This is the ultimate in the wearing of fur by humans, IMO, though your mileage will vary, depending on the furry to whom you speak.

I may send my alt (alternative avatar) to the rally wearing his fox AV, just to see what happens…

The concept is simple. Take your first name, go to Google, and type in a search for “first name needs”

Some of the things that Anne needs:

… to win sexiest Veg!
… a job.
… to be where the action is.
… a group of at least 6 people…
… a miracle.
… more lips.
… to learn to accept things as they are.
… fresh air now and then.

A sexy Veg? Who knew?

I’ve posted a few photos on Flickr which does the same thing for me, with less overhead. (If the link doesn’t take you to my page, my user name is Arondelle.) If you have a flickr account, ping me as a friend!