Monday, 28 May 2012

What a Day!

Oh my word what a day!

Wake up, do a few chores, clean up cat sick, let cats out. Hear cats come into living room meowing, Juno drops something from her mouth. It’s a frog, motionless presumed dead. Go get moist kitchen towel to pick up frog – it’s not dead, just stunned. Put it in bathroom sink and lock door. Find a box, put wet kitchen towel in it and make air holes in it, with aim of taking it to the park. (God knows where it came from, we live in a terraced house – there are only high-walled yards here).
Get dressed, go back into bathroom – frog has gone! Find it under sink, try to catch it – am unsuccessful despite screaming like a tiny little girl every time it jumps. Make panicked phone calls asking for advice/help. No one can come round. Pull self together, get big cardboard box with wet kitchen towel in and go back into bathroom. Frog has disappeared! Assume it is behind bath and as not prepared to dismantle bath, decide that is A’s job when he gets in, but will check periodically. Also leave cardboard box there in vain hope that it will jump in of it’s own accord.
Do a few things in meantime, hear a noise in bedroom and go in to find Juno lying panting on the floor like a dog and she growls when I come near her (very out of character). Google ‘panting cat’ – not a good thing, can be all manner of terrible things including a heart condition “owner noticed cat panting within a week it was dead” or “could just be too hot”. Helpful. Decide to ring vets for advice – “probably just too hot – anything else unusual?” check Juno and she has some blood by her claw – looks like it’s shattered, make late appointment so A can take us after he finishes work, but will take her in earlier if she doesn’t stop panting within half an hour. Faff about for a bit, keeping an eye on Juno. Notice she has more damage to her paws, make earlier appointment for vets. Make more phone calls seeing if anyone can take me but they can’t so book cab.
Phone A to update, hear strange noise “It’s just a drill, I’m in work” “no, it’s my end”, investigate whilst on phone, is coming from downstairs, trace it to gas meter cupboard – gas meter for downstairs flat is vibrating, panic and hang up with an “oh god” and freak A out. Realise downstairs’ washing machine is on and when it slows down a bit, the gas meter stops vibrating – weird. Go back upstairs and forget about it and later have to reassure A I’m ok.
Cab due for 2.10pm, so at ten to try to get Juno in cat box. Fail miserably, stress us both out and get upset. Cab arrives, run down to ask him to wait, knock on downstairs neighbour’s door for help (luckily a cat lover). No answer, but there’s music on – is she outside? Check out bedroom window – yes she is! Shout her for help and she comes round, after a couple of attempts get Juno in box and run out to cab (nice cabbie – said he would’ve helped me get Juno in box, why didn’t I ask him?).
Arrive at vets flustered, more damage to paws than I’d thought, they’re bloody and a few seem to be missing - might’ve been hit by a car! No broken bones, but need to do fluoroscopy to check for ruptured diaphragm. Wait for results, all ok, probably fell out of tree/off wall and scrambled causing damage to claws. Just needs painkillers as she will be in quite a bit of pain. Costs nearly £80, but relieved not serious.
Get cab back, let Juno out who hides under sofa all afternoon. Check on frog, still missing. Watch crap on computer to chill out and wait for A. Realise have had no food, but no energy to cook, so eat 2 biscuits. A gets in, we dismantle bath, still no frog – where the hell is it? For a second wonder if I could have hallucinated it, then put bath back together. Have tea, faff about. Hear cry of “Here it is” from A. Turns out frog has jumped into box OF IT’S OWN ACCORD! A shoves lid on box, we leg it to Calderstones Park. Feel guilty walking into park at 9pm with a cardboard box and assume everyone thinks we’re drowning kittens or something. Find the perfect sheltered spot and Froggy is released into bog garden (A has named him The Baron - Danger Mouse reference). We stay to make sure he’s ok and then wave him goodbye, looking like nutters. (He watches us leave).

Go to Tescos for bits and end up buying lots of ice cream, walking round muttering “what a fucking day” to each other.

Get in to find cat sick in bedroom, which A sorts. I write a long facebook status, as feel this day needs some record. Status seems to break Facebook and I lose it. Write whole thing out again on word just in case, then copy and paste it to blog too.

I think I deserve a drink

The Baron in his new home, just to prove I wasn't hallucinating. Apologies for the blurry phone photo.

Nikki x
P.S. The moral of the story is not to moan your life is boring and nothing interesting ever happens!

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