I took Moccasin to the vet, he looks like he's fine now. I told the vet about the bare patches under his chin, but they're healing, and she said they were probably just bare around where he got scratched. Moccasin got a couple shots, and when the vet was preparing them, I got all anxious and jittery (I have severe issues with hypodermic needles because I'm a wimp), so the vet assistant helped hold Moccasin while he got his shots. I couldn't look because I didn't want to feel all weak and dizzy and maybe have a panic attack, but it made me wince when Moccasin started screaming. But Moccasin was really really good, I'm so proud of him. He got some treats when we got home. And they keep spelling his name wrong. It's "Moccasin," not "Mocassin," and it's not that hard to pronounce. They also spelled chlamydia wrong, but that's ok. You don't become a vet by being good at spelling.
LJ wouldn't let me post last night for some reason, so here's what I wrote last night:
Not sure why, but AIM is being a bitch right now and won't let me sign back on. Oh well. Last night I dreamed that I was moving back in to the writers' house (this seems to be a recurring theme in my dreams), only for some reason I was driving the motorhome my aunt and uncle just got. Well, at least I could fit all my stuff in it. Dude was in a cat cage, but I went into the house without him. I was wondering who was there, and when I went into the kitchen, I saw Derek and two other guys (I think they were Derek's brother and one of my housemates last year). Then I was hanging out in my new room for a while (for some reason it looked like my stuff was already unpacked). I think I was listening to the "A Mighty Wind" soundtrack. Apparently several hours had passed, and I realized that Dude was still in the cat carrier in the motorhome. I went downstairs and saw Jamie (another former housemate and Dude's other mommy) and another girl, and I guess we decided to go to McKinley's. On the way, I realized that I needed to go buy cat supplies (litter box stuff, food, etc.). When I woke up, I still felt worried that Dude was stuck in the cat carrier and wondering where I was.
Speaking of cats, I get to wake up at a reasonable hour tomorrow and take Moccasin to the vet. Woohoo. And today I read this newspaper article about how some 71-year-old lady had been hoarding cats for the past 18 years, and authority people had already removed 50 (30 alive, 20 dead) from her house and estimated that there were still 30-40 hiding inside. My reaction was a combination of horror and amusement. Wow. That's a severe "cat problem." The article called it a "cat problem" like it was a substance abuse thing. Well... in a way, it was. I want to meet that crazy old cat lady, even though she must have pretty nasty issues. And I sure hope I never end up in such an extreme situation like that. I mean, I definitely plan to have a cat surplus, but at least I'll take care of them. And 80-90 is just too much. 42, maybe. That article is a great story right there. I should save it.
I also finished downloading/watching Witch Hunter Robin today. Good series. But it leaves you hanging. And Robin is awesome. Quiet and mysterious, yet powerful. I wish I could set things on fire with my mind. And I like Harry too. He's nice.