So, my cats think that every time I go into the kitchen or open the refrigerator or cabinet to get something to eat that they should also eat. This wouldn’t be so disturbing except for it calls attention to how often I go into the kitchen to get something to eat. I guess they are just trying to help me. It’s the kindest form of tough cat love, I suppose. Them both sitting there staring at me, sometimes meowing like they are in excruciating pain directly caused by my desire to feed my face, but not theirs. I wish their efforts were helping.
Right now I am sitting on the bed and they are each sitting on one of my legs. Like their tiny little bodies could keep me from the kitchen if I really wanted to go there.
Pudi went to the vet Friday for her spaying. I apologise to Ameila, who named her Tsatsi, but she will always be more of a pudi (goat) to me. I got a ride well enough, directly to the vet. And discovered the “nice fellow” who took me to the vet with Sisi awhile back overcharged me. Okay, so left her there at 8 and had a couple of hours to roam Lobatse until she would be ready – hopefully a drugged cat that I could easily slip onto the bus with and pass unnoticed. Nah, she was wide awake when I picked her up and screaming mad. They don’t seem to overly drug animals for surgery like we prefer to see at home.
So I got a taxi to the bus rang, got on the bus and hoped for the best. She only screamed when the bus moved. Or stopped. Or started up again. It was probably good not to understand what people were saying. I could tell by body language and voice tones that some were surprised and amused, and some were surprised and annoyed. It’s not like she was loose and running about or anything. I have seen people carry live chickens on buses and combis, but perhaps that counts as fresh groceries. Anyway, I was going to tell anyone who complained that she was more of a goat than a cat. Not that I have seen any goats on buses, just want to be clear here. Just that a goat maybe would fit into the frame of reference as a potentially useful item to try to transport somewhere, whereas cats…not so much.
So it is now Tuesday night and in theory I should take out her stiches. Yeah, snip, snip, snip. But I have just two hands and she has 4 clawed appendages, plus a mother who is looking on very attentively. Mom was fighting with Pudi earlier, maybe I should have handed her the scissors and asked her to do it. Well, here it goes. Dang she isn’t cooperating, but I got one. And her mom is still very calmly just sitting here watching. No help. Pudi has stalked off now. So that’s all for tonight and we will try again tomorrow.
I really like Lobatse. It has a friendly, Beaver Cleaver-esque small town feel to it. When I got there, stores were slowly opening, people were walking the sidewalks – they have sidewalks- saying hello and being all friendly like. They also seem to have more shoe stores than the number of feet living in the town would warrant, but I love shoes so this was pretty cool. Sadly, I can’t even look at the women’s shoes – well I can, but I can’t try any on or buy any because they stop at 10 here and I am a dainty 11. So I look at dainty men’s shoes, when I can find any. I haven’t figured out how anyone can wear some of those pointy, high heeled things anywhere, let alone here on the uneven dirt and gravel that makes up most of where we get to walk. After the shoe stores, it was on to count the clothing stores, and then the “china shops” which sell all kinds of things you need or don’t need for your home. One shop had bicycles which I will eventually buy to shorten my time in the sun during the summer months. Whenever I get my 540 Pula refunded from buying gas and electricity when I moved in, it will almost be the right amount for a basic cheap mountain bike. Hopefully with tires that won’t pop when I ride over my first thorn. Not here on Lobatse’s nice friendly concrete sidewalks, but back in Otse.
Well little Pudi is back sitting on my leg, holding me out of the kitchen. Silly rabbit, uh, goat, you have another stitch I need to remove….yuck. I think I am leaving that one alone for another day. Maybe the vet said wait 7 days? I am sure he said 5…
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