The Incredible (drug-fueled) Journey

Musette got her teeth cleaned yesterday. Being an older cat, she had two extractions (one a resorptive lesion).

I opted to have the vet give her injections of an antibiotic and painkiller, rather than having to grab her sore mouth and pill her.

At five, I brought Musette home. Joe took the carrier into a bedroom and shut the door while I got some wet food ready. It had been almost 24 hours since she’d eaten, and Musette loves her food.

I came upstairs, little dish in hand. “Can I open the door?”

Sounds of a struggle. “Just a sec. Okay.”

I opened the door. Joe was holding Musette, who was growling and struggling to get downstairs to her feeder.

“Here, here!” I put the dish in front of her. She inhaled the food and calmed down. I petted her, and she purred and rubbed her chin on my hand. “Wow, look at her eyes,” I said. “They’re still completely dilated.”

Big eyes

Josie, our Chihuahua, came upstairs.

“You could give Musette a kiss,” I suggested. “That might make her feel better.”

Josie edged closer, peered into Musette’s face, then edged away. No thanks. She looks crazy. 

We gave Musette more food and shut her in.

After watching TV for about an hour, I went upstairs and checked on her, expecting her to be more normal. Instead, she was even weirder – craning her neck, walking a few steps, then suddenly lying down and purring. Also, her pupils were still enormous. I got my cell phone and shone a light in her eyes. No reaction.

I went downstairs. “She seems more unstable if anything,” I said to Joe. “Let me see what the post-surgery instructions say.” I read for a moment. “Ah. The painkiller they gave her is morphine. She’s tripping balls.”

Joe switched off the TV. “The great thing about pets is that you can give them really addictive drugs. It’s not like they can get more.”

“You know, children’s movies show animals breaking into the pound to rescue friends  or whatever.  Why not make one where they break into a veterinarian’s office and steal all the narcotics? Do you think Quentin Tarantino has ever wanted to make a kid’s movie?”

“Fear and Loathing in PetSmart.”

“Trainspotting with Spot.”

“The Incredible Drug-Fueled Journey.”

I’m happy to say Musette was completely normal the next morning. Call us, Quentin.

 

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Josie is feeling saucy.

When Susan picked up her dogs, she brought an outfit for Josie and some toys for Musette.  According to Josie, they all belong to her.

Guard dog Josie

After waking up this morning, we let Josie out of our bedroom and she ran downstairs, as usual. Then came this tremendous barking – the barking that says, “This is real, there is something out there. Are you listening to me?!”

I went downstairs and picked Josie up, then looked out the  door. Nothing. “Whatever was there is gone, honey.” So we could see more of the yard, I went into the sunroom, and there was a raccoon, staring at me from the crotch of the sweet cherry tree. This tree is loaded with fruit and under attack from every animal around. The other day, we found a deer cleaning out the lower branches.

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So I shut Josie in the sunroom and powerwashed that sucker out of the tree. The end.

A rose by any other name would still have those stupid thorns.

I was outside when I heard Josie give an unhappy squeak. I found her with her tail stuck to the neighbor’s rose bush. After I untangled her, she asked to go inside, apparently fed up with nature. I’m betting mastiffs don’t have these issues. Other issues, but not these.

What a good girl.

This morning, I gave Musette (cat) her breakfast and then went to the front door, where Josie is usually waiting to go out. Instead, I could see her standing in the living room, but I only had a partial view. “Josie, do you want to go outside?”

She didn’t move.

So I went in there, and she’s standing very still, looking down at the motherload of yummy, yummy cat vomit (from the previous night). But she’s not eating it, because she’s been told not to over and over again. What a good girl.

I cleaned it up and gave her a treat.