I'm not going to be able to do this without help.
I'm at Kelly's house, taking care of her plants and cats while she's gone;
down to the coast today, Houston tomorrow, accompanying her mother for cancer
Except that the schizaphrenicat needs liquid anti-biotics twice daily.
She's clawed me the one time I've done it.
I know myself.
I'll lose my temper.
I should have considered more carefully upon accepting this.
I don't want to mistreat this animal, and I won't. Kelly needn't worry.
But I'll need help.
What are you doing tomorrow?
I got clawed some more this morning, and lots of howling, pissing and
moaning. The bitch tried to bite me too. A goddamned
nightmare. And I'm losing it; I'm taking it personal, I'm not enjoying
getting clawed and bitched at and fucked with.
I called the vet Kelly uses; turns out they will give the cat her meds for
five bucks, and they're teaching me, to boot. Twice a day is ten bucks,
but who's counting?
The vet tech made it look so easy.
I'm gonna turn this into a positive. I'm going to learn this.