Playing with Myself

From the recent natal celebration:

Obi-Wan trumps SurlySith
Look at that blubber fly!
The gingerbread cofffin cake

This week's 10: Words to Describe You

Easily 1) amused, 2) disappointed, & 3) worried, fairly 4) antisocial, 5) mercurial & 6) well-intentioned, unabashedly 7) punny, 8) chocoholic, 9) window shopaholic, & 10) loveaholic (a polite way of saying needy).

Ms. Thing woke us up somewhere past midnight panting as if she had been set on fire. It's not that unusual for her little Cocker thermometer to go awry, and Mr G showed who ranks where in the family hierarchy by turning down the house temperature in response. Fan, my dear man -- ceiling fan! No need to shiver the rest of our timbers.

The fright came circa 5 in the morning, when her breathing had turned shallow and she was shaking so badly I had flashbacks to Alex's last day, when the poor kitty was curled under the covers with me trying hard to retain any body heat. By a little after 6 we resolved to go to the emergency pet clinic, got everyone else fed and tended to, bundled Em in a blanket and piled into the car. Driving up and down 3rd Street produced no clinic at the designated address, however. So I called, which if I'd had any sense I would have done before we set out, and got an answering machine saying that the ER was open in the Spring and Summer. WTF? We dithered a bit more and finally landed in the parking lot of a vet clinic that advertised itself as opening at 7 am, which indeed it did.

Blood work and X-rays later, it turned out to be a neck injury of some kind. She has been walking rather tentatively for the past few days, and the night before had cried out when Mr G lifted her head to administer the usual final round of eye drops. Apparently the Little Cocker That Could simply refuses to complain except when she's in dire pain, but we didn't recognize it as anything other than a bit of retort to pinched skin. The vet diagnosed the symptoms as her body's response to the pain level and sent us home with anti-inflammatories, which do seem to be helping as Em has regained a little range of motion. We're supposed to keep her off the furniture so she doesn't do any further damage by jumping down unaided.

If I hadn't gone through the horrific with Alex I probably wouldn't have freaked out quite as much. I'm just not ready to lose Emily, though, so what a relief that it's something that will heal eventually.