Apartment Found

Oddly enough, Matt says he found us an apartment. You may remember his tale of apartment hunting last summer in which he was nearly swindled by several nefarious characters posing as landlords near Harrisburg, PA. Actually they were landlords, and very tricksy ones, too--

MATT: (interrupting) Yes, they were quite tricksy as you say. But I finally found one that appears to be above board, accepts cats, and makes things in general rather livable.

BUSTER: And I don't have to be declawed???

MATT: Nope!

BUSTER: When do we move in?

MATT: Middle of next month.

BUSTER: What city? Do you have pictures of the place? Do I get my own room? Does it have windows? Are there lots of mice and bugs for me to chase? I love flies. Are there lots of flies to catch?

MATT: Goodness! Uhm...I can't say the city. It's our business--no one else's. I don't have pictures, but they do...on line. But we'll look at those together, later. You remember the internet is like a large city...with lots of scary people who eat cats?

BUSTER: Koreans?

MATT: Yeah, them too. You won't get you own room. Neither will I. It's a studio, so it's rather small. But for something so small, the windows are rather large. We'll have three of them, so lots of light. There is a chocolate factory on the other side of town, so we'll have the aroma of chocolate most days. I know that doesn't mean that much to you.

BUSTER: No, it doesn't. Now a catnip factory...that would matter! Tell me more about the windows...

MATT: I didn't measure them, but they seemed to be about 3' wide and over 7 feet high. And there's a thick wire outside running left to right where birds like to perch.

BUSTER: (perking up) Birds? Crunchy birdses?

MATT: *sigh* Yes...have you been watching Lord of the Rings again?

BUSTER: I dunno.

MATT: There are no bugs that I saw, or flies either. And we're on the second floor just across from the elevator.

BUSTER: Dumb.

MATT: What?

BUSTER: Dumb.

MATT: Being across from the elevator?

BUSTER: Yup. Dumb.

MATT: Why?

BUSTER: Noise.

MATT: It won't be that bad. I have a noise maker on the way that creates white noise that will drown out the noise from the elevator while we're sleeping.

BUSTER: (shaking head) I won't even ask.

MATT: Good...don't.

Vets Day

MATT: Know what today is?

BUSTER: Uh....Vet's Day?

MATT: Veterans Day, yes. And do you know the significance of that?

BUSTER: (worried) I have to go to the vet again?

MATT: (laughing) No. It's a day dedicated to-

BUSTER: (interrupting) (somewhat panicky) I HAVEN'T THROWN UP AT ALL. I FEEL FINE. HERE, (grabs Matt's hand, applies to Buster's nose) SEE? MY NOSE IS SLIGHTLY DAMP. THAT'S GOOD, RIGHT??? AND AND HERE, (applies Matt's hand to Buster's forehead) AND I DON'T HAVE A FEVER EITHER!

MATT: Calm down. I know you aren't sick. And your forehead isn't where we take your temperature, either.

BUSTER: *gasps* (backs away)

MATT: Will you relax, already?!? Veterans Day is a day honoring those who have served our country in uniform.

BUSTER: Like the guy in the car with flashing lights who pulled you over that one time?

MATT: No. Not unless he served in the United States Military at some time in his life. It's a day to honor those who made the sacrifice to serve, not only in time of war....but especially then, I guess. It started after the end of World War One....

BUSTER: (rolling eyes) Oh...here we go...

MATT: Fine. I thought you wanted to know.

BUSTER: I just wanted to know that I wouldn't have to be...examined...again, that's all. The rest just doesn't interest me.

MATT: Would the loss of your freedom interest you? Or taking all those great things for granted each day? Would that interest you? What if you had to ask the government for permission each time we stayed in a hotel or crossed from one state line to another?

BUSTER: That would suck.

MATT: Veterans have insured our freedom for 231 years and counting by putting on the uniform and defending this nation from tyranny.

BUSTER: Okay okay. So what are we gonna do today?

MATT: Watch football.

BUSTER: That's it? No celebration? No parade?

MATT: It's kinda chilly outside. And I'm tired from yesterday.

BUSTER: But if it's as important as you say it is,....we gotta do something! We gotta show our support...or whose gonna put on the uniform and sacrifice again when it's needed?

MATT: Good point. Tell you what,...while I'm out today....if/when I see someone in uniform, I'll thank him or her for their service to our country.

BUSTER: You darn well better! And thank him for me, too.

Resolved

BUSTER: I fixed it!!! I fixed it!!! (pointing to damage on hood of truck)

MATT: (laying in sleeper birth) (waking up) Huh?? What?? You fixed...what?

BUSTER: I fixed the hood! I did it! Look! (pointing again with paw) Good as new! See?

MATT: (blankly) Duct tape?..... (to self) Red duct tape?

BUSTER: (proudly) YEAH! All fixed.

MATT: Hmmm. Yeah, you can hardly tell.... And the color...oh the color.

BUSTER: RED!

MATT: Yeah...it's red. Just like the truck. Uh....(puzzled) How did you get out there, for one. And how did you tape it without opposable thumbs?

BUSTER: Steroids. You've been giving me steroids, and now I'm Super Kitty.

MATT: (glaringly) How did you get out?!?

BUSTER: (pointing at Matt) YOU left the wing open. So I squeezed out and fixed your hood for you.

MATT: Prednisolone in a transdermal form does not make you buff, Kitty.

BUSTER: Must be the Pro Plan then. I'm not throwing it up anymore, so I have more energy to spend.

MATT: Will it break your furry little heart if I have additional work done, you know, just to smooth it out a little?

BUSTER: Well frankly, I just don't see that as being...necessary. It looks great now.

MATT: Yes, it could fool anybody...until it rains.

BUSTER: It won't rain!

MATT: Well, actually it will, as it tends to do so in the Autumn.

BUSTER: Well...don't drive in the rain then. (nodding once firmly)

MATT: (resigned) Sure.

Rude Awakening!

BUSTER: So what the heck happened this morning?

MATT: Whaddya mean?

BUSTER: You know...around 2am when you were in bed...and the truck shook....and then shook again....and all that crunching noise.

MATT: Oh, that. Some rookie hit the truck.

BUSTER: Whaddya mean?

MATT: I mean that some sleepy, idiot truck driver with only 2 months experience felt too cocky to get out of his truck and look while he was backing into a spot next to us when he wasn't sure what he saw...or didn't see. And so he crunched the right front section of my truck's hood with the side of this trailer. And that's after he backed into my side mirror.

BUSTER: So he hit us twice, right?

MATT: Yeah. But he said he didn't realize he did it the first time....or the second. I had to get my pants on and run out there.

BUSTER: Yeah, I remember. I heard you shouting at him, "please stop hitting my truck, dammit!" Or something like that.

MATT: I didn't say "dammit"...did I?

BUSTER: I thought you did. So did he try to run off or weasel out of it?

MATT: No, he said he was sorry and cooperated fully. Nice change from some of those others.

BUSTER: Got a picture?

MATT: Let me check...yup, here it is.

BUSTER: Ooooh. That looks like crap.

MATT: Yeah, I was pretty upset. But I didn't call the police this time.

BUSTER: How come?

MATT: When I got my employer on the phone he asked to speak to the other guy and got him to admit fault. If he hadn't done that I'd have gotten a cop to do that.

BUSTER: But you said he apologized.

MATT: Yeah, they tend to do that at the time. But later on after the dust settles they start thinking about the precarious nature of their standing at their own job...and sometimes change their story. He might say it was me who hit him.

BUSTER: Well, I'm a witness. I heard him admit fault, too.

MATT: (laughing) Oh that's rich. Can you picture me taking you into court and setting you on the judges bench for you to testify? "Meow meow meow meeooow meow meeeeooow...etc"

BUSTER: (nose in air) Hmmmf! I think I'd make a very good impression...especially if the judge is female. And my meow is impeccable.

MATT: Yes, you're right about that.

Medication At Last

Okay, finally we made it back through that little town in PA where Matt has his PO Box. That means that finally I have my steroid medicine: Prednisolone in a transdermal form. That means Matt smears it in the inside flap of my ear. Good for me. I hate pills. I choke on them and they make me moody.

Hopefully this new med will keep me from puking so much. I dunno. The shot in the rump I got last month was supposed to last a whole month. It didn't. It only lasted 17 days...and then I started barfing again...and moaning and stuff. I hate being sick.

It's .05 ml, which on the syringe measuring thing is equal to one drop. Weird thing is that is comes out like a cream, not liquid. Anyway I do that twice daily for a week, then once daily for the next week, and then every other day for two weeks. I hope Matt is keeping track of all that because I can't due to my lack of time comprehension beyond a day. So I'll let the 320 lbs trucker be my doctor and let the litter box biscuits fall where they may.