Tuesday, January 10, 2006, 19:22
What? Again?
I am in a mild state of shock. The sun is shining again today! In fact, the sky was clear this morning, so for the first time in ages, we experienced a sunrise. And, since I wasn't sure how long the sky would stay clear, I went outside late Monday afternoon to take a picture of a very rare occurrence around here -- the sunset. I also took a picture of clear blue sky above.
Along with the sunshine today comes a strong wind out of the south. The wind is actually quite piercing and raw, as south winds usually are in the winter, but at least the sun is shining.
Several times Monday on the news and again in the weather forecasts, I heard about the report that states people should get 40 minutes of sunshine every day.
I am wondering how people are supposed to do this when the sky is cloudy for three weeks straight? At that rate (of 40 minutes of sunshine per day) to make up for not having any sunshine for three weeks, I would have to sit out in the sun for 14 hours.
In the first place, we don't *have* 14 hours of sunshine per day this time of year, and if I *did* sit outside in the sun for 14 hours, I would probably end up frozen solid. It's not that warm outside! Not even in the sunshine. . .
Sophie -- The amoxicillan is helping Sophie's urinary tract symptoms. She is not quite so angry at the litter box today. Unfortunately, the same is not true regarding her attitude toward me. She chatters and growls and twists around and claws and fights whenever she needs to have more amoxicillan. So far, no one (either me or Sophie) has suffered any serious bodily injury during the ordeal. But that could change. We still have 9 more days to go.
LeAnn R. Ralph
Monday, January 09, 2006, 19:05
You Are My Sunshine. . .
I can hardly believe my eyes.
The sun is shining!
It has been three full weeks since we have seen the sun. Of course, the sky was cloudy first thing this morning, but by noon, the clouds had blown away and the sun was shining! A few puffy white clouds are drifting around in an otherwise blue sky. Incredible!
Charlie, our Springer Spaniel, is outside on the east side of the house, lying in the daylilies, enjoying the sunshine.
The horses are standing in their pastures, one hind foot cocked, enjoying the sunshine.
A couple of the kitties are stretched out in the spot of sunshine on the living room floor, enjoying the warmth.
Sophie is curled up on the chest of drawers in the bedroom, behind the curtain, enjoying the sunshine and looking as happy as a six-month-old cat could possibly be -- under the circumstances.
Because -- unfortunately -- not *all* is sunshine and warmth around here today.
Poor little Sophie has a urinary tract infection.
"Have you noticed that Sophie is really angry when she's in the litter box?" Randy asked Saturday evening.
"What?" I said.
"Grrrrrrrrr---ra-owwwwww-grrrrrrrrr, hissssss," said Sophie. "Grrrrrrrrr---ra-owwwwww-grrrrrrrrr, hissssss."
"Oh," I said. "You mean like that?"
Sophie, obligingly enough, had just hopped into the litter box.
"Yes," Randy said. "Like that."
I heaved a deep sigh. "I suppose," I said, "it means that she has a urinary tract infection."
Several more times Saturday evening I saw Sophie behaving that way. She kept trying to empty her bladder and kept growling and hissing while she was in the litter box. She behaved that way Sunday, too, so first thing this morning, I called the vet clinic, and at shortly after 8 a.m., headed into town to get some amoxicillan for Sophie.
Sophie, as I have come to realize, is not a cat who likes to be held or petted. She often likes to be in the middle of what I am doing -- such as the day she got her claw caught in the venetian blind in my office, reaching for the ceiling, because I was reaching for the ceiling to paint it. And the day that she got up on the bathroom counter and put her nose to the mirror because I was standing there, with my nose to the mirror, flossing my teeth. And the day that she sat on the toilet seat while I was cleaning the floor behind the toilet. And the day that she sat on my lap and tried to catch the cursor as it moved across the computer screen and then would look to one side or the other or underneath the computer or on top to see if the cursor had come out on the other side when it disappeared to one side or the other or the top or the bottom.
But she does not like to be held or petted.
Giving Sophie amoxicillan (liquid amoxicillan and using a syringe to shoot it into her mouth) is a little like trying to put 10 angry bull snakes into a box with no lid. It is *possible* to do it -- but it is not very easy.
And Sophie needs amoxicillan three times a day for the next 10 days.
With any luck at all, I am hoping that I will at least get MOST of it into her.
I am also hoping it will help Sophie's symptoms to clear up.
What I don't know, of course, is how she developed a urinary tract infection. I am wondering if -- because the house was in such a turmoil from cleaning and painting before we had Christmas here on December 31 -- that she felt so distracted she did not drink as much water as she should have.
I suppose at this point the "how" of it is not important. What's important is that I get the amoxicillan into her. And that neither of us becomes too upset in the process.
Ho-hum.
LeAnn R. Ralph
