Christmas Eve. Normally I love Christmas Eve – it’s magical and atmospheric and the calm before the eventual storm of December 25th. This year I am up to my eyeballs in packing and moving and I have had barely time to acknowledge what time of year it is. I’ve finished my gift-buying (if I haven’t gotten you something by now, it ain’t gonna happen!) and can concentrate on the tasks at hand. Except that I’m not. Concentrating, that is. I’m blogging. Whoops. I cannot face another box or the sound of packing tape or the smell of marker pens as they are scrawled all over the boxes to tell us what lies inside. I’m so tired. My kidneys are not coping well with the stress and my overall inability to take care of myself properly at the moment. Am looking forward to being settled in the new house though not looking forward to unpacking everything. Why do I have so much stuff!?
Over the weekend Mum and I had added stress. 19 year old Bronte (the tabby cat) had another bout of cystitis (the 2nd in a month) and we had to rush off to the vets in the middle of the night. We had to find a 24 hour vet that wasn’t too far away and luckily we did. They were awesome – very caring and thorough and, despite the late hour and the fact that Bronte had to stay in over the weekend, the account at the end was very reasonable and not at all scary. Bronte behaved herself (for once) and is now back home with Mum, complaining about not being fed (she’s always being fed but she’s kinda senile and forgets whatever she has just done) and sleeping the rest of the time. The vet did lots of blood tests and found that Bronte is actually very healthy for such an old cat. Relief! She is very dear to us and I would hate to lose her. Mum would be devastated… Bronte came to us via my old job as a vet nurse. Her mother Minnie had been run over (unfortunately by her owner, accidentally) when she was 8 1/2 weeks pregnant. She had suffered a pelvic fracture and a diaphragmatic hernia plus of course we had to get the kittens out to see if we could save them. After a lengthy surgery to repair her diaphragm and a caesarean to remove the kittens, and then a hysterectomy, poor Minnie was a bundle of stitches and feeling very sorry for herself. We managed to get all three kittens out safely – Bronte was the first “born” and she was a fighter from the get-go. Feisty and much bigger than her siblings she was determined to survive. She spent the first hour of her life in my pocket as we worked on the other kittens. Poor Minnie suckled those hungry little kittens despite her pain and discomfort from the surgery and was the best mother ever. She healed up nicely and was a beautiful cat. Bronte and her little sister, Beauty, survived but their brother did not and passed away at a few weeks of age. The owners wanted me to have my pick of the remaining girls and so I chose Bronte (she being the strongest and most wilful – I figured she would be heathy and tough) and at 6 weeks, brought her home. She ruled the house from day one, bossing our dog and other cat around. I have photos of her hanging from the Christmas tree and play fighting with our very large German Shorthaird Pointer. She’s such a character and I will miss her when she finally succumbs to old age. We’re praying she gets to 20 – that seems a nice round number!
It is super hot today and will continue to be for the next few days. I feel sorry for the birds that are outside panting in the heat. I hope when our landlords move back in they will remember to fill the bird bath each day. It’s easy to forget and the water evaporates so quickly in this weather. This poor crow was sheltering in our mulberry tree this afternoon, outside my window. Such beautiful blue eyes.
Anyway, I should be packing, not bird-watching or blogging. Feel free to come over and help me. I hope you all have a beautiful Christmas. Think Santa would have room in his sleigh for a few extra boxes? I’m sure he could just drop a few at my new address for me… 🙂