On A Parakeet
Wednesday. I got a fund raising call from the ACLU this morning. I really don't like fund raising calls, but I grimaced, wrote a check and put it in the mail. Then I said the hell with it and sent Al Franken another donation over the Internet. I figure we need a little humor in the Congress from someone who hasn't yet gone over to the Dark Side. (End of political rant. No, really.)
Up this morning at eight-thirty, a routine that seems to be settling into place. Pretty much bright eyed and bushy tailed until midnight, eight hours sleep, then breakfast at the usual place after nine which, during the week, works well as the café isn't all that crowded. I may have to skip the weekends, as the place is crowded by nine, but that will work itself out. Complicated, this retirement business, don't you think?
I got a call this afternoon from the vet saying Ms. Emmy's allergy test results had arrived and she was allergic to many many things. Among them: milk, corn and lamb; corn being an ingredient in almost all of the commercial cat foods you can buy. Me-oh-my. But I'll pick up the list tomorrow morning on my way home from breakfast. The vet made recommendations of commercially available cat foods she could eat, but this may be your basic messy cat adventure in the making. I think I'll pass on the two month series of injections she mentioned until I see how she fares with the new diet. I personally don't want to have to inject my cat with whatever every other day for months, but then, I suspect, neither does anyone else. Beats giving her an I.V. - from what I've heard from friends - but I'm thinking of trading Ms. Emmy in on a parakeet.