Um num num. Nuubie enjoyed his nibble of blueberry. Now Phoenix is tossing around a grape like it's a ball. My boys are idiots :)
My favorite girl lost America's Next Top Model. ):
Allison Harvard, in my opinion, should have won the competition. She's beautiful, and unique. And her eyes? Forget about it. They make average people's eyes look like nothing in comparison. She's like a doe. So beautiful, so elegant, so quirky. I wish she had won.
Anyway, life has been okay lately. I get paid this Friday and I already have plans for the money. I have to get the rest of the Christmas presents, pay for the order that should be arriving this week, pay rent, pay my cell phone bill, and buy my kittens their Christmas presents. I have several ideas in the works for them - I found these beautiful green and red rounded beds with gold designs on them in Walmart today and I know they'll be perfect. Phoenix loves the bumper bed I got him from work forever ago, but it's small and he fills it. If I get them each a special fluffier, larger, nicer one, and one for his brother Nuubie, I think it'll be really nice! I'm also going to get them stockings and fill them with tons of toys. Some of them I'll withold for later in the year when they wear out the first ones, and of course I'm working on getting a second crinkly tunnel. Phoenix loves to sleep in the zebra one I got for them, and Walmart has a cheetah print one that I want to try them with as well. I will probably also buy my family dog, Timbit, something special.
This is the two family dogs, Munroe (in loving memory) on the left, and Timbit on the right. <3 This is one of my absolute favourite pictures of these two. I took it at my mom's request under the shade of the willow tree in our backyard.
Yesterday at work I became deeply infuriated. A man called in for his cat, stated it was an emergency, and was rushed in immediately. When the cat arrived (we'll call her "Goldie"), she was heaving, struggling to breathe, and wasn't eating. She was in pretty bad shape. We assessed her, determined that diagnostics were necessary to find out what was wrong with her. The owner was adamant that he didn't want blood drawn, he didn't want radiographs, he didn't even want IV fluids, but we did that much at least. It was infuriating to watch this poor animal suffering on the exam table in the treatment room and know that we could help her get better and we aren't able to without his permission.
So after all that ignorance, the bastard comes in today too. He says he tried to surrender "Goldie" to the SPCA and they wouldn't take her. Probably because she was near death and they really can't afford to treat her. So they suggested she be taken to a vet for some medication. And hallelujah, the man decided maybe she should get some treatment. Gee, what a revelation. The doctor sees "Goldie" again and after a few minutes the man comes back out. Following my usual routine, I asked how the appointment went. Snidely, the man replies "Oh, he's putting her down now." Shocked, all I could do was put on my receptionist face and say, "I'm so sorry." He scoffs and sits down on the couch, cracks open a newspaper and mutters, "It's just an animal." I was in utter disbelief of the words that had just come out of his mouth. I exchanged glances with my coworker, who gave me the same terrified expression. We then realized that there was another client in the reception area cradling their very old, very ill cat in their arms. Mortified, I do my best to remain composed and start chatting up the other client while working my way around the desk to care for the SPCA kittens we have available for adoption out front. Later, the dr brings the cat back to the owner in her burial box, as he's elected a home burial. Jeez. What a nightmare. I was just glad to get him out of my reception.
Enough for now, I suppose. :/
