eats, poos and stays...

I may be overdoing it a bit. In my continuing quest to convince myself of my health and invincibility, I am working full time, training for a triathlon (and actually training as though I were a healthy person), and , in a move worthy of florence catingale, have taken over the care and feeding of yet another cat, but this one has....good god dare I say it...breast cancer.

Yep. a rescuer that i work with found poor little Honey (i didn't name her, guys, lay off), in really bad shape in a courtyard. Although she is an adult cat, she weighed about 4 lbs, had thyroid counts off the charts, and a large, ulcerated mass on her chest. That was 3 weeks ago. Now, she lives in my former home office room, where she occupies a now soft t-shirt covered desk newly devoid of computers, eats like a princess, takes thyroid meds, and runs around chasing my other cats who treat her like an interesting yet frustrating oddity (does she like us or doesn't she? will she play or won't she? is she serious when she hisses or isn't she?)

And, tomorrow she goes for her mastectomy. Yes, cats get them too.

The rescuer and I are told we are crazy for doing this, b/c her prognosis is not great no matter what we do. But, my god. the little cat is so full of life. Even at her lowest point she'd get up on you and demand petting. She apparently was catching mice even as her counts were skyrocketing, and her tumor was growing. So, she wants a chance. And, she'll get it.

Well, I have to confess, the only reason I went to law school was to be a good provider for cats. So, she gets her chance.

Like I have mine.

blogblocked #2: the gag order

Well in case you're wondering what happened to blogblocked #1, it was a rather lengthy, albeit suitably vague rant about the "W" word (wardrobe? weather? weakness leaving the body? wankers? wonderland? witchy woman see how high she flie ie ies?) (hint: rhymes with jerk). Therefore, after consultation with my work/life balance consultant, in the form of the ex; i properly decided that the post could remain hidden for the duration of the current game, lest it surface and cause me dooce-like gainful employment issues in future.

so it sits in my drafts. And i gotta tellya, it is a beautiful piece of prose. A rant worthy of King Lear. An opus so magnum that it makes Henry Miller read like "fun with dick and jane" (oops, he may have actually written a few things involving dicks and janes and fun....). And I gotta also tellya, you may never read it...

But, someday, when the current times of troubles are over and done with, and we all are relaxing around the fireplace with port, warm toasty slippers, stories of battles won and lost, and a fine stilton molding gloriously before us, I may reveal it and stun you with my erstwhile brilliance. And if you weren't in love with me before, you will be after hearing what will be henceforth known as:

"the Lost Post"

And so it be.