On the Expectations of Men, Mice, and Cats

Even the best laid plans...

Ursula K. Le Guin was right:

The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty; not knowing what comes next.

In other words, was seemed “certain” yesterday is not always certain today. For example:

My moving from this house is no longer imminent. This afternoon I met with the young man who purchased the house and signed a month-by-month lease on the house that gives me perhaps six months for locating a more suitable dwelling place. The cost is acceptable, just a bit more than I have budgeted for rent wherever I end up settling.

Meanwhile, my new landlord—strange: I’ve not had one of those in thirty or so years—will assume responsibility for maintaining the yard and making the numerous repairs to the house that I have been unable to afford over the past two or three years.

I also learned that he is a neighbor: he lives seven houses down the street from me and knew me by sight, even though I did not know him.

Angels come in many disguises—even as landlords.

Alex has an appointment with his vet on Monday. He will not be happy, especially since he has been prancing—yes, prancing— around since he became Alex the Mouse Slayer. And also because the furball just saw his vet last weekend. Appointments this close together traumatize my travel-wary—yes, wary, as in mistrustful; not weary, as in fatigued—feline. Alex resists (literally) being stuffed into his travel case, even though it is luxurious. For Alex, travel case = trip to veterinarian = trauma. Even though he is always the perfectly behaved cat around his vet, part of that good behavior comes from the uncertainty of what will happen when he is in her hands.

This appointment was unexpected. Friday night Alex asked me to cuddle him. When I placed him, like a human baby, in my arms with his belly up so I could rub it and tickle him under his chinny-chin-chin, he cried as if in pain. It was then I discovered a large—perhaps with a diameter of two inches and a height of three-quarters of an inch—lump on the right side of his rump just behind his tail. Last night it was tender to my touch.

Since the animal hospital was already closed Friday when I discovered the protuberance, I telephoned them when they opened at 7:00 a.m. Saturday morning. Unfortunately, no vet was working at the hospital Saturday, so I made an appointment for Monday and decided that, if Alex was in pain prior to that, I would rush him to the emergency animal hospital that saved his life when he was a kitten.

During the rest of Saturday and into Sunday morning (it is 1:50 a.m. as I write this), Alex behaved normally: eating, sleeping, playing inside and outside (he is at the moment doing his early morning catting around outside), and, of course, clawing and making demands on me, his servant. The swelling is no longer sore to the touch and doesn’t seem to bother him at all. Therefore, unless there is a change for the worse prior to his appointment of Monday, I’ll let my darling furball avoid the trauma of being stuffed into his luxurious cat carrier. Of course, I’ll post any updates to Alex’s condition.

Speaking of updates, Mike reports that Carmen had another up and down day. For the details, you can click HERE. Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers.

Sunday blessings and shalom to all!