By the way, I got the kittens out of the house. It's quite a weight off my shoulders, to be honest. One of my neighbors took the calico. Of course. And of course every fucking idiot that called me from all the flyers I put up everywhere wanted the calico, too. Like an idiot I hadn't anticipated this and like an idiot I'd featured the calico prominently in the flyers.
Fucking Panamanians apparently have an issue with cats that are mostly black. All black, forget it. Needless to say the best cat in the entire litter is black, bit of white on her pechuga but not enough to appease a Panamanian. You know I was recently admonished for going to the refrigerator after standing over a pot of boiling water? Yeah. It turns out this is dangerous as hell. You see, the heat of the vapor rising from the water suddenly paired with the unnatural cold of your average refrigerator can cause stroke-like symptoms in the unsuspecting cook. Yes, it can. Your face can be frozen in a contorted grimace. Forever. So my humble suggestion is that one smile every time one opens the refrigerator. Or irons near an open window. Or in the face of any other potentially calamitous, climatically precarious situation. You never know when your face might get frozen. Think about that next time you reach for a popcicle on a hot day, you complacent fucks.
I made an appointment to take the cat in to get her spayed. Tuesday was a holiday, of course. No idea what for. If it's November, it must be a holiday. Anyway, Come in Thursday they said. So I did. Sorry, sir, we only have the equipo to do two surgeries today and we already have two dogs in there. (This is a fucking neighborhood cat, right, a cat that decided to have her kittens at my house.) I'm like, Yeah, see, no, I made an appointment and you need to do this fucking surgery because I am not taking this semi-feral cat back home in a cage just to have to do this again when you slapdicks are more in the mood for it. A bit of heated back and forth, what a Thai fellow I used to work with would have called spicy talking. They eventually relented and did the surgery.
The neighbor who took the calico recommended that I talk to a vet in the city who would, in my neighbor's experience, be willing to take the remaining kittens and adopt them. So I trek into the city and of course it's the very same vet that I was yelling at a few days before. But they do agree to take the kittens and find homes for them. I agree to pay for the food and the care in the interim and so on.
I take all five of them into the vet's to get their vaccinations and to leave four of them for adoption. There was a bit of a mishap and several of the kittens ended up escaping from their vessel of incarceration and hightailing it throughout the vet's office. Unfortunately there were several bird dogs in the vet's at that particular moment and the ensuing scene could adequately be described as chaotic. My forearms could adequately be described as thoroughly lacerated. Good thing I'd brought a couple of tubes of polysporin down this trip. The silver lining in all of this is that the vet, the one I'd been shouting at just days before, offered to sterilize all the kittens for free. I think she felt sorry for me, emerging from her office to find out what the hell all the commotion was and seeing me bleeding like a stuck pig with the assistant guy pouring hydrogen peroxide everywhere.
What else? Oh, I discovered an OUTSTANDING Spanish restaurant just right down the road. Xoko. Discovered isn't the right word. 'Went into,' maybe. I've passed it a hundred times. I had the Robalo a la Vasca the other day and it was outSTANDing. I can't believe I'd never been in there before.
