A Mother's Day
I took my cat to the vet, and luckily it isn't serious. He lost a fang, and I was worried that he'd have to have dental surgery.
The vet thinks that Thunder was biting something and the tooth broke off. It looked infected, so he gave me an antibiotic to give the cat.
Much to my delight, it wasn't a pill! Yay! He gave me an antibiotic in the form of a liquid and a dropper. So easy, I thought. Much, much better than having to wrap a cat around a pill.
Visit + antibiotic = $104.00.
Hm. Well, there goes the paint for the kitchen. Oh, well, I don't mind putting off the redecorating for a bit, so I guess that's okay.
So it's day three of the antibiotic drops. My arms are covered with scratches. I have a puncture wound, inflicted by the one remaining fang, in my thumb. DH's winter coat and big puffy mittens sit on a kitchen chair, waiting for the next time we have to give him the medicine. It's no easier than pills, folks. Syrup is no fvcking better. He freaks out and wiggles and fights and scratches and the whole time I'm thinking "A hundred and four bucks, you little bastard."
But then, he's done, and he skulks away somewhere for an hour or so to mope.
As I'm nursing my wounds and picking the cat hair off my clothes, suddenly I get that familiar sensation on my ankle.
I know my kids love me. They don't have to say it. Even when they're mad at me, I know they love me because of the unconditional love between parents and children. That's why Mother's Day is kind of funny to me. Every day is Mother's Day because when you're a mom, you know you're someone's most important person.
This love transcends bloodlines and species, though. I just did something that terrified my cat and probably made his little mouth hurt more than it already did. I took his control over his universe away for a few minutes, which no doubt hurt his pride.
And yet, he forgives me. He loves me in spite of what I did to him. Oh, you say his brain is the size of a walnut and he's already forgotten about the medication. Not so. He remembers, because he tries to scatter when he sees me coming with the little bottle.
Funny how that little *headbutt* just made it all worthwhile. That's what parenting is all about, folks. You spend all your money, put off doing the things you enjoy, and they're still pissed off. Yet, at the end of the day, you know you are their favourite most important person. :)