Yesterday afternoon I was sitting here with Charlie reading the news and weather online when suddenly a wasp fell on the table next to me.
Ivy had been on the table staring up at the window for some time, so I guess she had seen it behind the wicker blinds.
The wasp moved a bit, so I knew it was just dazed. Ivy was frantically trying to get to it. I had a folded paper towel on the table on the other side of me and I quickly scooped it up and took it outside where it quickly flew away.
When I sat back down, I noticed that Ivy’s left eye was partially closed. Oh no, I thought! What if the wasp stung her eye?
Of course many thoughts went through my head at once…
…Is the vet even open…if they are how would I maintain any sort of social distancing in that very small office…could she lose her eyesight…would l be able to carry her crate there with my back in the shape it’s been in…would she be okay?
I quickly Googled cat stung by wasp and it said to call the vet immediately if she was stung? But was she stung?
I watched her for a few minutes and her eye returned to normal. I guess it buzzed past her eye or perhaps fell on her when she swooped it out of the air with her big paw. I was so relieved.
Funny what all goes through your mind when you think your baby might be hurt. It’s like your brain goes into overdrive.
Then later I walked past her chair and something caught my eye. I looked closer and there are tiny little holes all over the chair. Ivy’s nails have to be the culprit.
If I thought she was ruining the other chair, this one doesn’t stand a chance. I mistakenly thought that fake leather would somehow not get torn up.
I was wrong. Ivy’s nails need to be cut. But I don’t have any trimmers and I’ve never owned nail clippers. I prefer to use a nail file on my nails.
I’ve tried to put quilts and blankets over the chair to protect it, but they eventually just slide right off because the chair is so slick to start with.
I vaguely recall that being in the reviews of the chair, that it was a bit slick on the surface.
I told myself not to cry over spilled milk and just let her enjoy her damned chair.
Does this look like a cat who would let me take yet another chair away from her? I don’t think so. She seemed to mourn the upholstered chair.
Remember I told you she stood at the storm door on her hind legs with her front paws on the glass staring at the chair I was cleaning on the porch to then give to the neighbor?
No, she would be devastated if I took another chair away from her. So I’ve just decided to not let it bother me. No point worrying myself to death over it or scolding her.
She is a cat and a cat has claws for a reason and that is that. I gave her the chair and thus I have relinquished the right to take it away. I just won’t do that to her again. It’s her chair.
Yesterday evening just after I fed the babies I was walking toward the kitchen with Ivy’s empty plate when I somehow tripped in the hall over the egg crate mattress topper I keep on the hallway floor.
The mattress topper is Charlie’s therapy. The acupuncture vet told me to put one down where he’d have to walk and it would help him feel his back legs that sometimes slide out from under him.
Somehow I guess walking on the uneven surface sends a signal to his brain for his feet to move forward. And it’s been working too. She told me last week that he’s getting some muscle back.
So I don’t know how I did it, but I found myself sprawled across the kitchen floor among shards of glass. My right leg was bleeding in two places, so I guess the plate hit the floor just before I did. They were just tiny cuts but dripping blood.
I laid there for a few minutes trying to get my bearings and see what was hurt. Certainly my right knee was all banged up. Both my wrists had apparently helped to break my fall so I didn’t land on my face and they were beat up.
I applied ice. Actually I ice my back and neck and often my ankle every night when I’m watching TV or reading. Ice is my best friend.
Today I feel like I took a few tumbles in the clothes dryer. If I thought my back was hurting before it’s really hurting now. And so is my right hip. And my knees and wrists and the cuts on my leg.
I had had the empty plate in my left hand and the handheld vacuum in the other. Thankfully I didn’t break the vacuum as Dyson handheld vacuums are not cheap and I think their handheld vacuum is the best on the market.
It was pretty handy to have that with me because it stayed in my right hand. So while I was laying on the floor I vacuumed up the smaller bits of glass.
Then I got up and picked up the rest of the mess. The babies had scattered like someone had shot a gun as soon as they heard all the noise.
What entered my mind was the name of an old TV show that I just barely remember. It was called This Is Your Life. As I limped around, that’s what I thought of.
I’m clumsy. I tend to fall quite a bit. And this is my life.
Also I wanted to mention that in recent days I have heard Ivy purring. I had not heard it all the time she’s been living here. But now when I get down on the floor on my yoga mat to stretch twice per day, Ivy lays down next to me begging me to pet her.
When I pet her she purrs. Her purr sounds like a pot of water on the stove just beginning to boil. It isn’t a soft feminine purr. It is more gravelly, I guess you could say. But then why on earth would I think that anything about Ivy would be what I would consider normal?
Ivy is just not a normal cat. Not like the cats I’ve lived with before. She’s her own unique little cat person. I tell her she’s my little baby girl, though she weighs nearly 15 pounds.