I only write a blog when I have interesting cat things. Since for the most part, I’ve already written about everything the cats have done, there’s been a lack of subject info. Also, I’ve been back in school full time and working full time. That’s a lot. In case you wondered.

So right now what I’m doing is staring at a very drugged up Taco, making sure that he doesn’t vomit up all the food I shouldn’t have given him (I read everything carefully except that part – there was a lot to remember!)

Right. So. Taco is drugged up why?

It starts with an aborted biting of his brother when his jaw got stuck open for a few seconds. Then a coughing fit a few days later. While I AM an overprotective cat mom (as the title says), normally these two things wouldn’t send me running straight to the vet. What did, though, is information that Taco’s biological brother died recently after a sudden onset of respiratory illness.

This started a very expensive process that results in where we are now, drunk AF Taco.

Turns out that his brother probably died from heart failure. There’s essentially no way to predict it, but you can go through various tests to see if it’s something else, like asthma or heartworm. Or, in Taco’s case, you never cough again and therefore spike everyone’s blood pressure to find… a heart murmur and an abscessed canine tooth.

But because of the tooth he needed a dental cleaning and extraction. And because of the murmur he needed an echocardiogram to make sure he could handle the anesthesia. Did I mention is hasn’t coughed once since the fit that launched this?

Many, many dollars later, Taco is drunk and has two teeth less than he started with. I fed him too much when I got him home, which I didn’t realize until I had to call the vet to ask if it was ok that he wouldn’t stop licking his paws – I mentioned “fed lots of food” and got a “Whaaa didn’t we tell you only a small meal?”

Oops.

I was listening to every instruction. The important parts were “he was overly active even after the pain shot and pawing at his stitches so we gave him an extra drug – he’s going to be super hammered about an hour after you get home and make sure you take off the bandage on his arm.” I didn’t remember an emphasis on small meal although they did go over the paper they gave me line by line – I was too caught up in the rest of the things to worry about.

He needed the dose she gives obese cats. That’s my Taco! Who, may I add, is the BAD DRUNK. The one that keeps getting up even after you put them to bed to wander around drunkenly and leaves you constantly fearing for their safety.

So now I’m being a worrywort mommy trying to make sure a) he doesn’t choke while vomiting up the too-much food I gave him and b) he doesn’t fall off of things.

Oh, and as for the reason I called the vet in the first place, the licking the paw thing? Yeah, he stopped that while I was on hold. Dick.

I haven’t written in this blog in what is probably literally years…

It’s funny, too, because I started the blog when I was trying to alleviate some emotion about my sick kitty, and found it incredibly cathartic and fun all the way through. But then, when the worst thing ever to happen to me in my life happened, I didn’t write. It was just too raw. My dad died in February. I know this is a natural path of life — parents are supposed to die before their kids. But I was NOT ready. And for all intents and purposes, I shouldn’t have had to be. It was sudden, it was unexpected, and it hit me like a pile of shit and bricks and anvils. I also get that people have way worse things happen to them. But it’s my DAD. I only had one.

So this is what I did instead — I went back to school. I’m a 35-year-old married cat mother of 2 co-ed. It was one of the last things I talked to my dad about. Literally the day before. And then, against all historical evidence and past actions, I actually followed through on something I talked about. Not sure why my dad’s death shocked me into doing something. It’s not like my dad would be any less proud of me from beyond the grave. He thought everything I did was wonderful.

Now here I am, working a full time job and going to school full time, too. At first I just wanted to follow up my AA with a Bachelors (in Legal Studies, if you’re wondering) but now that I’ve discovered how much better school is when you’re old enough to appreciate it, I’m looking at law school. Why the hell not? But for now, I’m keeping my options open, which brings me to chemistry. Why chem, you may ask? That’s not exactly a law-y thing. And you would be incorrect. Patents are filed by patent attorneys and patent agents, and to even take the test to become one of those, you have to have a BS in an approved science. Now, I’m a smart girl. But math doesn’t come easy to me, so I avoid it. I think I got a D in chem however many years ago my sophmore year of high school was. But to get pretty much any degree in science, you gotta chem. So I’m chem-in’. Which brings me to cats (yes, I haven’t forgotten the cats). As I was preparing by reading for next week’s class (dude, I am SO adult about this – ME, preparing! I probably would have given my dad a heart attack if he was still alive), I learned that a positively charged ion is called a CATION. So now I’ll forever remember that a cation is a happy kitty.

What’s the moral of this story? Associate every term with cats and graduate summa cum laude. Also, appreciate the people and furballs you love EVERY single day because one day some shitty dumbfuck blood clot can pop in and kill them in a matter of seconds. You don’t always get a tomorrow or even a goodbye.