While the rest of my hemisphere was talking about the lifetime event of the lunar eclipse that happened last night, I was sitting on my couch writing.
I'd have to say it was right around ten PM...
When, what to my wondering ears should appear....but a cat through the doggy door.
Okay - it didn't rhyme.
but that's what happened.
Jack Oy came through the doggy door, hurried quickly through the front room. He HURRIED so quickly, he had Gizmo's attention. He kept low to the ground as he moved quickly...
and he jingled all the way.
I kid you not.
At first my brain thought it was odd then I realized how Jack was running, low to the ground and the jingling was coming from the back half of his body. And it was green...
Something was wrong. And it was a fishing lure.
I said so to the Professor and gave chase. Luckily, Gizmo had given chase, too. I followed the jingling of Gizmo's dog tags to find Jack.
He had wedged himself between the storage bins under J-man's bed. I tried to pull him out, but his claws held to the carpet. I got my hand under him again and picked up up and pulled him out. He still tried to hold on to the carpet but I got him out from under the bed.
I turned him over and sure enough. There was a fishing lure embedded in Jack's stomach area. It was more than a little freaky to see.
I was close to disturbing sleeping children, so we went back to the front room. I had the Professor grab a towel. We wrapped the towel around Jack's upper body to keep the professor from getting scratched (and he doesn't like cats).
I tried to see if I could remove the lure. It wasn't budging. He was caught and good.
I nearly took a picture of it - but that seemed especially cruel.
Instead, The Professor held Jack while I went to get the carrier. Cat in Carrier. Called the Kitty Urgent Care. Put shoes on. Drove down the highway.
When I got there, the receptionist had pulled Jack's information from when he'd been in before. December 9th.
They took him back into the exam room.
There was another crisis in the animal urgent care and I felt for them. They were saying good bye to their friend.
I had a book to read and I waited.
One of the vet tech's came out and grinned, "Would it be okay if we gave the cat fish some pain meds? He seems okay with everything and we think he'll do great with just pain meds."
They gave him a local and some pain meds. The Vet had to push the barbs through and then cut them. Everyone in the office were small women. And it was a thick barb to cut but the finally got it cut and removed.
The receptionist told me that the Vet was probably going to keep the lure. She apparently keeps odd things she has to extract from her patients. More power to her.
When they brought him back to me, a different Vet tech with a glittering nose ring (Shiny!) told me, "He's as high as a kite!"
I could see it. His eyes were glassy.
When we got him home, he wanted outside immediately but we blocked the doggy door. Showed him the kitty box. He wanted nothing to do with it.
I wish I could have known what was flashing through his little stoned kitty brain.
They were some good drugs, let me tell you.
He pounced on coats. He pounced on a plastic horse.
He chased Maggie around the big blue chair.
He and Maggie chased after each other around the table.
He was playing. We're not so sure about her.
She kept coming back to him. So she either knew he was stoned, and wanted some drugs, too, or she knew he wasn't himself and hoped to dominate the situation. Show him who's boss.
I don't know how it all played out. They both have two eyes. There's no blood on the tile.
He's currently sleeping off his bender in pure kitty fashion.
Maggie isn't available for comment. She's asleep in the closet.
He may have a new nickname, now.
I may have to start calling him Catfish Jack Oy.