They tell me if I can come up with 1000 words of interest here they will give me some points. I am not sure what the points are good for but I have some unexpected free time and it is a little rainy outside.

I am away in Dallas on business for a few days, one of the many things I enjoy about my job, daydreaming of the little vacation I am going on after I get back into town. A good friend has been sailing around Florida (literally) for the last few months and I am going to join him for a few weeks of blissful laziness and piracy on the open seas. I get back to town and begin the unpack/laundry/pack routine. The next day I notice that overly talkative kitty has not dropped by (he has his own kitty door) for his daily back scratching and mandatory guilt trip for leaving him alone for 4days (he has an auto-feeder and water bottle). I don't think too much of it as he often enjoys his time alone. He is the mischievous / explorer type...one of the reasons we get along so well. By the second day I start to wonder...walk over and smooth out the top of his food so will be able to tell if he is sneaking in at night while I am asleep. The morning of the third day is time for me to do some exploring on my own..though I fear it feels more of a search and rescue operation. Sure enough, there he is hiding away in the bushes in my front yard...seems normal enough until I spy a gaping wound on his shoulder a little larger than a quarter. Poor guy has been hiding away in the bushes for the last few days without food or water. Even after brought inside he has no interest in either...I assume licking his wound has left him with little to no appetite.

So it is into the kitty-duffel and off to the hospital...few things he hates more than the dreaded kitty-duffel and is more than happy to remind me this, even in his present weakened condition. So the nice doctors give him a little buzz cut, clean out the wound, and all the other kitty - doctor things that go on behind closed doors. Seems him and his new girl friend go into a little fight or just completely lost themselves in the heat of passion...hard to tell which. The bite became abscessed and then burst, thus the gaping hole.

Now after a firm lecture (and a little fatherly advice on women) Mr. Kitty is grounded for 2 weeks in solitary confinement and forced to wear a cone on his head to restrict his oral fetish. Needless to say he is not at all happy with this arrangement (that makes two of us), but discipline must be maintained and most importantly, it is what is best for him.

To refer to him as overly talkative kitty has become an understatement this last week or so. He misses his girlfriend dearly and feels it necessary to remind me of this on a regular basis...particularly at night. Enough so that I have found myself wondering if they make bondage gear for kitties, granted the head cone is bad enough but I have fantasized at what peace and quite a kitty-ball gag might bring to an otherwise restful nights sleep. I blame this on seeing a re-run of Pulp Fiction the other evening :).

The good news is that he is ok and recovering nicely, despite his ill temperament. The first day or so I gave him some appetite stimulants but now he is back to his regular diet and slowly gaining back the weight he lost. And in true kitty fashion he is back to sleeping the day away and skilfully tormenting me at night. A few more days and the wound will be closed enough that the cone can be removed, maybe a couple more days after that and he can return to the blissful freedom he has grown so accustomed to...and Daddy can go back to a peaceful nights sleep of soft fluffy clouds and cool silky satin.


Not sure if that was 1000 words or not, but tis the end of the tale of kitties, pirates, and dirty laundry.