Adventures in Veterinary Medicine

One of my cats, Mr. Smith, had to go to the vet and have some tumors removed.  It was a pretty involved surgery.  Three incisions to remove five tumors.

Being interested in, well, kinda everything, I asked the vet to save the tumors so I could look at them.

The two big ones from his chest were lyphomas, a benign fatty tumor.  The vet tech showed them to me, they were in a bag.  They were solid, whitish masses with traces of little red veins, floating in a blood-stained pinkish saline solution.

I will never look at shrimp cocktail in quite the same way again.

The three little tumors were really freaky.  Those were probably malignant mast cell tumors.  They look like big ol warts, and because they are usually malignant they have to cut away a substantial circumference of skin and flesh around it.  So these things are floating in a jar, big warty knob on top with a two-inch circle of skin around it and fleshy bits hanging below it.  They appear to be some kind of mysterious deep-sea creatures that can only survive 4000 feet underwater.

Creepy.

I was going to post pictures of Mr. Smith, with his crazy half-shaved body and sutures, but frankly it's a little unsettling.  I expected nice clean little stitches, but I'm here to tell you, he looks like FrankenKitty.  They didn't stitch him up, they CROCHETED him back together.

Although as my friend Drew pointed out, now he looks like a badass - "If you think I look bad, you should see the other cat!"

Bless his little kitty-cat heart.

When Boredom Strikes

I've been sick the past coupla days.

I was sitting around Tuesday evening, minding my own business, when my body announced,

ATTENTION GUESTS OF THE GASTROINTESTINAL SYSTEM:  PLEASE VACATE IMMEDIATELY.  MOVE TO THE NEAREST EXIT.  NOTE THAT YOUR NEAREST EXIT MAY BE BEHIND YOU.

I've been hanging out in bed all this time.  Bit of a challenge, since flat on my back invites use of the lower exit, sitting upright invites the upper.

I was staring at the wall and started wondering, if there was one animal who could talk, which should it be?

First I thought Elephants!  Then but, what could they tell us, really, when they talk to each other?

"Hot today."
"Yep."
"Pretty hot yesterday too."
"Well Africa and all."
"Remember when Frank died?"
"Which, Little Frank, Frankie E or Bull Elephant Frank?"
"Bull Elephant Frank."
"Like it was yesterday.  Man, after Bull Elephant Frank died back in '92, shit got real."
"This is what I'm saying."

Then I thought, Dolphins!  Dolphins rock.  They are very intelligent, they could probably solve the Middle East problem and end the drug wars in Mexico.  The UN could go home!  World peace!  Statues to Douglas Adams!

They could tell us all about the ocean and all the other critters.  "Sharks actually don't like eating People Meat. Too fatty."  "Sure otters are cute but man can they be petty!"  "Orcas are pussies!"

So if not dolphins maybe domestics, either dogs or cats.

Dogs would be cool because of all the shapes and sizes and breeds from all over the world.  And they'd talk with a little charming accent depending on where they are from.

Except for bichon frises and poodles.  For one thing I hate bichons, little whiny useless fuckers.  And poodles are apparently really smart and you know they'd be obnoxious about it, in their french accents.

But with dogs the conversations would boil down to, "DO YOU LIKE ME I LIKE YOU WILL YOU LIKE ME ARE YOU THE ALPHA DOG DO YOU WANT TO BE THE ALPHA DOG IS THAT A SNACK CAN I HAVE A SNACK TOO?"

I'd be great if cats could talk, but you KNOW they'd be all,  "Did I, or did I not say, FRESH salmon?  Is this not CANNED salmon?  I AM speaking ENGLISH, correct?"  "Leave me, Human, I'm trying to nap here."  "Listen, I'm not having this conversation with you."