Parasite City

This is an honest to goodness picture of all of the pet medicine that I administered tonight.

	Lili got a dose of ear-mite preventative. It came in a little tube with a plunger, which I use to force a jet stream of medicine to the back of her throat. Lili had no idea that a dose of medicine was coming, and thought I brought her some little plastic toy to chew up. She happily took it deep-throat, and when I hit that plunger, she jumped straight up, and looked at me pissed off. Then, she ran to Mrs. theskinnyonbenny and asked for protection from the more evil human. But hey, it's her own fault. If she would keep the cat's mite-infested head out of her mouth, she wouldn't have had to be medicated. Fortunately for her, the only medicine in her future is a dose of the neck stuff that prevents fleas and heart worms (but apparently lets ear mites party unabated).
	Blossom handled the ear-mite plunger like a champ. She's so naturally hungry and dopey that I'm not positive that she knows I even did anything. We topped that off with some ear-cleaner, which allowed me to wipe out an impressive amount of dark brown goo, not unlike vegimite. That was followed by some drops to get the yeast infection out of the ears. It seems that yeast cells are fixing up the vegimite. Blossom gets to have the ears done every morning and evening for the next two weeks, followed by another plunger full of ear-mite poison. And a dose of anti-flea and heartworm next week. And oh yeah, in another couple of months, the good doctor will slice open her belly and remove her reproductive organs. Good times for a dog.
	Bubbles' name doesn't do justice to what a fighter she is. This is a scrappy little bitch, and I'm not exaggerating about that one bit. She just finished a month-long regimen of twice-a-day milky white medicine to get rid of an infection she had that made her generate snot like a sickly toddler. And then, the patron saint of pet disease (see below) brings that infection right back into the house. So, we're going to take the medicine twice a day for another month. I will be scratched to hell by Friday. To go with that, she had to take an ear-mite plunger full of liquid, had a flea and heartworm dose due, and also has to face the music when it comes to getting spayed.
	Nigel II showed up last week, with the ear-mites in tow. He also carries the respiratory infection that makes him the only cat that I've ever seen blow snot bubbles. Unfortunately, he makes snot out of his eyes too. He usually feels to bad to run and play, so he gets two doses a day of the milky stuff, plus the biggest dose of ear mite plunger liquid. Once he regains his strength, he has three rounds of shots to look forward to, followed by the amputation of his balls. On the up side, while you're at work all day, he's lying in a cold, air conditioned room, sunk down in the soft pillows and blankets, fast asleep. Wouldn't you make that trade?

In other animal news, someone around here other than me finally listened to the guidance from the spirit of my fat little Daisy.

You see, since Lili showed up a little more than a year ago, I could hear Daisy's spirit having absolute conniption fits at Lili's behavior. Things like, "CHRIST ALMIGHTY! DON'T GO NEAR THAT CAT! YOU DON'T KNOW THAT CAT. IT'S GOING TO SCRATCH THE SHIT OUT OF YOU!! OH LORD, I CAN'T LOOK. I CAN'T LOOK."

Or, "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, YOUR HUMAN IS RIGHT THERE ON THE FLOOR, NOT PAYING ATTENTION TO YOU. HUMP HIM! HUMP HIM! HUMP HIM!"

Or (and this one's in a whisper instead of a shout, so you really have to listen), "Hey, the humans are just sitting there watching TV. You oughtta sneak into the bedroom and piss on the floor. C'mon, it'll be hilarious."

But Lili just wasn't from the school of Daisy. In fact, when she first chose to play, ignoring a full bowl of dog food, she got permanently expelled from the school of Daisy.

On the other hand, Daisy has a true disciple in Blossom. Having been here only five or six weeks -- and having only a handful of nights where we actually cooked from which to learn -- Blossom has figured out the trick of standing on the dishwasher door to hurriedly scour the plates and bottom of the dishwasher for bits of human food. And she would never, ever, ever choose play over eating.

Now she just needs to work up a healthy fear of cats, and get that yeast out of her ears.