Okay, maybe it can happen—I’m beginning to think that Roxie has been chosen
by God to heap the payback of some doing unto others that I did a couple of
years ago—specifically, when I had my wisdom teeth removed. I was a horrid
patient, but then I had a horrid doctor: the woman didn’t wait for the
novocaine and IV narcotic to kick in, went in with the pliers, and yelled at
me for yelling. I should have bitten the so-and-so…only after she yanked the
buggers out, breaking a healthy tooth in the process, did the drugs kick in.
I’m told I walked—flew, maybe-- into a Scion dealership because Louie decided
he needed to buy our new car NOW, and said to the poor, patient salesman, “Hi!
I’m higher than a f***ing kite right now, ya know that? JEEZIS they give some
great $#!+ at he dentist office.” And the nice man got me a cup of coffee,
ran to Boston Market to get me something soft and mushy to try to eat, and
packed me as far away from customers as he could while trying to get the
dotted line signed.

So perhaps I should be patient and tolerant of my Roxie, who has been running
me and Louie ragged. I just had four teeth done after all, and Madame had to
have seven taken out. So we can excuse Roxie for being difficult right now…

Yesterday she would not eat anything until we put her food five feet up from
the floor. And we’ve been getting our cardio chasing her down for her
antibiotic. Today, concerned with the other kids especially the Juvies
getting into her chow, we elected to sequester her, kind of reluctantly.
Roxie doesn’t like being left alone. So she wouldn’t touch her chow until
Louie came up and sat with her. He had to put her food and water up on a high
shelf behind the computer, even though no other cat was around. It met with
Madame’s satisfaction enough so that when Louie could keep away from work no
longer, she was happy enough to nearly finish her breakfast, for which I’m
profoundly thankful. Louie went to the store on lunch hour and bought her
some h*m (smoked pig, trayf, non-kosher, goes-with-swiss, etc. We can’t say
it in front of Roxie, and I’m getting scared of spelling it because she’s
smarter than most two-legs.) Needless to say, she wanted a sliver of swine
enough to try giving it a chew, and got frustrated. At least I know she wants
to eat. I’ll go later and see if we can’t get just a little bit of H-A-M
ground up good and fine. I don’t want to make a regular diet of Deli Pig
because we don’t give the cats people food as a rule. Indian-style plain
yogurt is the biggest exception; we’ll get her a bit of that too. Besides,
the vet said that yogurt is good for them, better than giving a dish of milk,
which is a no-no in our house.

So I’m tending the injuries incurred while pilling our Little Girl—strong,
that cat—and figuring out the next means of appeasing her. I’m glad we’re not
shopping for a car or we’d be in a pickle.

Blessed be,
Baha