Monday, December 13, 2010

Molly the Cat

It slipped my mind, then I was reminded that I have to feed Molly, the diabetic cat, from the 17th to the 21st of December. He (it took awhile to discover she was a he) is not a kitten. I think the cat is over ten years old. At this stage he gets a sht of insulin before his morning and evening chow.

What that means is that I drive up the mountain and shoot up a cat twice a day. This ought to be entertaining; more for the cat than for me, I suspect. Keeps me off the streets. With luck the cat will survive until his real adults return.

Whenever people take off, leaving their pets in my care, I worry that they'll pick that time to kick the bucket. Then it will be all my fault. I do avoid caring for pets I don't like. Believe it or not, some animals are jerks. If I have to care for jerk animals, I would feel double guilty if they kick because I secretly wished for their demise long before I had to play nanny.

Molly is a likable creature so I worry more about being up to the task. His owners do this every day--how hard can it be? With luck I won't accidentally give myself the shot. Too bad it isn't something more glamorous, like morphine.

Really, though, Molly probably has it tough enough being saddled with a girl name. He's made up for it by standing off rattlesnakes and avoiding coyotes. Even so, it has to hurt.

About Me

My photo
Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
Like spring on a summer's day


Blog Archive