The Trauma Center

Happy Memorial Day Weekend! I'm sure I'm not alone in seriously needing this long weekend, but thank the gods. The boys and I had quite the traumatic Friday and Saturday. Friday, I inadvertently shut the Terrorists right leg in the door on my way to work. The Terrorist and I have had numerous conversations about the fact that the door to the garage is off-limits. He doesn't listen...well, I am looking at the side of the door for him that I am closing so he doesn't sneak out and it turns out he's over by the side of the door with the hinges and decides to put his paw through the hinge opening, so when I go to close it all of the sudden I hear screaming and screeching! I open the door only to realize what has happened and he's clearly hurt, but he won't let me near him to see how badly. Schmoopie comes running over looking at me accusingly and then decides not to let me near him either! I'm bawling, finally get the Terrorist in hand and feel around - not finding anything broken at least to the touch. Call the vet, get an appointment for Saturday as I can't take off work.

So, as I have to take the Terrorist to check on his potentially broken leg, I am behind on taking Schmoopie in for his yearly shots. So, I think, I'll bring them both so I can kill two birds with one stone. With cats, especially mine, I have to play a big game with them just to get them in the carry cases. I have to shut the doors to the bedrooms, because if they manage to get under a bed, I'm screwed. I get them in the carry cases and shove them - facing each other in the back seat. They both proceed to SCREAM at the top of their lungs the entire ride - which is about 20 minutes. THEN, Schmoopie is so traumatized, that he pees in his crate - and is completely soaked. EW. So, I pull over and get the paper towels in the trunk and shove them in the crate - he's so upset. We finally get to the vet and we have to wait; we're early. With cats, you only get a certain window of opportunity to get them in the crate, so I figured better early than late.

We finally see the vet and she checks the Terrorist who's leg is swollen, but seems to be fine otherwise. He's walking and jumping on it - I figure he's pretty indestructible and it will heal. The Schmoopie on the other hand is a bit of a wreck. He's hyperventilating and freaked out and pissed off because he's pee'd in his crate and on himself. So, we get the crate and him cleaned up and he has to get his shots - traumatizing for both the Schmoopie and Mommy. Then, the vet and I are chatting about his teeth - he doesn't have that many...she's looking at him and she says to me that at some point - prior to my ownership - someone must have fractured the Schmoopie's jaw because not only does he not have certain teeth, but his bite is off - as if someone fractured his jaw and it never healed!!!!! I know I haven't gone through how I got the Schmoopie and his departed brother, but it was a very weird situation and they were clearly mistreated, but I had no idea to this extent! So, by this point, I'm practically in tears due to how crazy the last day and the morning had been. First, I almost break the Terrorist's leg, then I find out that someone might have seriously hurt my Schmoopie and that same person clearly never got him the treatment he needed!!! It's amazing that I was ever able to get him out from under the bed!

I've spent the rest of my weekend working on accounting - you know you are jealous. I've decided that I am completely and totally retarded when it comes to accounting. I'm a maroon, a nincompoop. I just don't get it. Today, I went over to my study team members house and "C" and I worked on 4, count them 4 problems for 4 hours!!! Sooooooo frustrating!