we have a new Chairman at our house. and he’s a cutie.

it was one of those things. i wasn’t looking for a cat. mr. fleegan CERTAINLY wasn’t looking for a cat. but sometimes a cat finds you. or sometimes, you hear about a cat from your dad, who said it was the coolest cat ever (and coming from your dad, it must be) so you traipse all over RBC to find The Lady With the Cat so you can save the cool cat from it’s almost certain, evil drop-off in the Talladega National Forest.

you do this because you’re a sucker. a sap. a bleeding heart liberal with a heart of warmish steel.

he is about 4 months old, according to the guess the vet made.

and he’s polydactyl.

we’ve thought up about 100 names for him. but none of them were perfect until last night just as we were dozing off jimmy said, “Lebowski.”
and there you have it.

at the vet this morning (for i waste no time in such things. new cat? great. i’ll take it to the vet in the morning.) the vet tech came in and explained that they needed to do a feline lukemia and AIDS test.

“oh. right. okay. i didn’t think about that.”

“it’s best to go ahead and test.”

“sure.”

“i’ll warn you though, there’s no cure for either one.”

“right. okay.”

“if he’s positive for either, there are some medicines to boost them up a bit.”

“um…”

“but still, no cure.”

“well, if he tests positive… um, can’t we just… well, put him down?”

“….”

it’s here that the vet tech was probably thinking i was a total, cold-hearted bitch. which, i am, but also, minimum wage does not provide for medicines for dying cats. it does however, provide for a quick and noble euthanasia.

“we can put him down, right? if he’s sick? you do that here?”

“well, that’s… your choice.”

“okay, well let’s see what the verdict is, yeah?”

a bit later the vet comes in and, good news: no lethal cat diseases. then he says, “but he might have worms.”

“i have no doubt about that.”

“really?”

“if the foulness in the litterbox is anything to go by, then yes, there are worms.”

so Lebowski has some worm medicine he has to take every day for a week. and we go back to the vet in 4 weeks and then after that, the poor fella has to get fixed. sorry, dude, those are the rules. i’ll feed you all day long, give you lots of water, a box to shite in, a comfy place to lay (other than countertops and the table, you can have the run of the house), but you gotta get neutered.


he’s being very dude.

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