Remember when I had to rush Ray to the hospital because he had hind leg paralysis that he miraculously recovered from immediately upon entering the clinic that turned out to be gas?
I'm seeing a trend.
Last time I was sitting for Ray, I had a broken foot and I was in a cast. When Ray developed a sudden case of hind leg paralysis, I thought perhaps he was empathizing with my incapacitation.
This visit to Colorado has me dogsitting for Ruby the dog, and Pearl the cat. My broken foot is no longer a problem; however, I do have shin splints in my left leg so I'm limping a little. After a few days and a hike up Sanitas, a 7 mile run and a walk on the Cherryvale trail with Ray (they got along splendidly), Ruby started limping. Turns out she has what is probably the equivalent of a blister on one of her paw pads. It's just one layer of skin that has peeled off, nothing serious, and today when we walked, she was fine. But oh, the drama.
But that's not the story. The story is that Pearl, the cat, who normally can jump with ease with the assistance of her stool onto her table where her food is kept, suddenly needs help. She stands on her stool and cries and cries as she looks up and gingerly, albeit unsuccessfully, tries to jump. Now SHE has developed her own little case of hind leg paralysis only under this particular, isolated scenario. Jumping up onto the bed (which practically reaches the ceiling mind you) is no problem, but she has decided she needs help in the form of me picking her up and plopping her on her little table in order to eat. If I don't respond immediately, she cries. It's hysteria, I'm sure. There's absolutely nothing wrong with Pearl.
So the question is, what is it about me that causes hysteria in animals?
Also worth noting is the amount of hair that is being generated in this house. Ruby and Pearl are both extremely furry creatures (see pictures). And, if you haven't seen me recently, I have a LOT of hair. Between the three of us, Edith, the cleaning lady, is gonna have a blast. Beware the drain. I'm trying my best to keep it under control, but alas, it's impossible. Sorry Cassy.
On another note, Taylor coined a new nickname for SSM Guy. She calls him ATT guy, as in "All the Time" guy. I have to ponder this before changing his name. SSM has a nice ring to it, but I certainly don't want him to think that he's limited to Saturday, Sunday and Monday.
Off to pool. Life is tough.
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