beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." ([DW] Raxacoricophallapatorian PLEASE!)
An article about casting for series five of Doctor Who.

Cut for spoilers and a raaage-worthy quote )

And my GOD, more people need to download the most recent Confidential so I can get my share ratio high enough to put it on disc, make copies for Frank and Ann Marie (Christmas to Christmas - no reason not to when I couldn't mail it earlier anyway) and delete it. I want all the Christmas and Eleventh Doctor stuff off our computer. Because we just got a new computer for Christmas (WHOO FINALLY) and I don't want those files stuck on here while we make the switch.

*glares at uTorrent*

AND, to top off my morning, I stupidly left my most recent pair of $30 earbuds sitting out on the computer desk while I went to the bathroom, and Pigwidgeon chewed them into pulp before I got back. This is the FIRST time I've forgotten and left my headphones out since the time she chewed up the earbuds that came with my iPod a few weeks ago. I'm SO FUCKING PISSED OFF RIGHT NOW.

That fucking cat has seriously tasted my fury, i.e. the water squirter. UGH. Now I have to trudge out through the snow and pick up more headphones. DIE, CAT.
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (Callisto)
Mom visited Callisto, and she says he's doing better! She says that his "numbers" (not clear on what that means) aren't any better than they were last time... BUT he ate on his own! More info when I've got it.

beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (*stress*)

If I were going to post anything about Callisto again (that's one of my cats, the one who recently developed liver disease), it would have been that he's doing better. NOT great...but better. The underside of his tongue is actually almost pink again, rather than a rather violent shade of "schoolbus."

But he's still not really eating willingly. He won't eat the new kibble he's supposed to eat, and feeding him his new wet food takes SERIOUS coaxing at the very least. The absolute best we've managed is to get him to suck extraneous liquid out of the dish, or accept spoon-feeding. Beyond that, we've been stuck smearing wet food on his face (so he's forced to lick it off), or getting a syringe and force-feeding him (which he hates SO MUCH).

Also, he's a pain about taking the pill he's supposed to take every morning.

He seems to have IMMENSE trouble eating now, as if something's wrong with his mouth. We came to the conclusion that he needed to be seen by the vet again, but that was unfortunately just before the long weekend. So we force-fed him this weekend, and Mom took him to the vet's this morning.

...He's back in the vet hospital. It's touch-and-go if he'll live again, apparently.

And Mom says that this go-round is...the last time. If he doesn't recover when (if) he comes home the second time, then that's it. We'll have to put him down.

Just...damn. I don't really have high hopes, to be honest. Callisto's personality change in regards to food has been disturbingly dramatic. I don't know that our old lard-butt will ever willingly eat again.

I can't believe I'm probably going to lose ANOTHER cat. Admittedly, it's been five years since we lost Tiger and Lester, but DAMN. Our four guys were all just kittens when we got them, healthy kittens, and we really thought we'd have years and years with them all. Just goes to show that life can kick your feet (or your paws) out from under you at any time.

Thankfully, our other three guys can keep each other company, so the loss of Callisto probably won't hit them as hard as Lester's death clearly hit Tiger. But the one who's clearly been the most disturbed by Callisto's long hospital stays has been his littermate, Manhattan.

Which is also just great, because really, she wasn't neurotic enough to START with. I'm almost as worried about her as I am about Callisto.


beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (make it stop)
First, thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. I'm sorry I haven't told you all how much I appreciate it.

I'm not consciously aware of being upset about my coworker, but I HAVE been avoiding my own journal like the plague all this week. I know I get avoidant like that when I'm upset or anxious, though. It's a bad habit I should really try to break.

(Well, that, and I've been snapping at my mother a lot. Inexplicably, every single thing she's said or done this week has irritated me. I should apologize.)

My boss is now coming in to work! She talked to everyone she could on Sunday about it. She also gave me a few of the details I was missing:

-Apparently, BD was NOT just drinking. She also had taken Ecstasy that the Edo boys gave her. (Something I gather has broken my boss's heart, as BD had ALWAYS promised her to take no other street drugs besides pot.) This, combined with the alcohol, stopped her heart. The paramedics got her heart going again, but it was stopped for too long. Hence why she was in a deep coma when they got it going again, and was never able to wake up.

-Apparently the paramedic was wrong that she was all alone. The Edo boys were apparently responsible for calling 9-1-1. And they did it when she started to say she had a HORRIBLE headache (after which one of them disappeared, but he was trying to get her a glass of water), not when she collapsed. GO THEM for realizing so quickly that it was serious, even if it didn't save her.

(Maybe they stayed back when the paramedics came, since they apparently gave her the E? Or - hell - maybe the paramedic didn't even realize that this white girl was with a bunch of Asian guys? I have no idea.)

-My boss says that BD's last words to her were, "I'm going to dance all night and go to the pancake breakfast in the morning, so you don't need to stay up for me. 'Night, love you Mom." ...That's good. It's good when last words are, "I love you," and I think you could practically count on BD for that.

My boss seems to be doing remarkably well, actually. Another of my coworkers who's been around our Taco Time about twice as long as I have (i.e. 6 years or so) asked me if I was around when her father died. I said no, and he said that she was essentially non-functional for a month. We all expected this would be even worse.

Instead, she seems to be handling things...okay. She's working again, anyway. (The memorial service was in B.C. on Saturday, so we didn't see her until Sunday, but she's been back in since she could be.) The same coworker said that she's become very...Zen...about her life in general the past year or so, and that he thinks that's REALLY helping her.

I'm just hoping this is true and she doesn't crash horribly later on. She seems calm enough to find solace in the idea that her daughter's death might be a lesson and a message to some of her hard-partying friends.


One of my four cats, Callisto, has been off their kitty kibble lately. Actually, they all have; but now that it's not so hot the other three are eating just fine, so we think they were just too hot earlier.

Callisto, however, still wasn't eating by yesterday morning. And my mom and my sister observed something very alarming; our resident fatboy has a WAIST. And no tummy. He's lost THAT MUCH weight. We've had him on prescription diet food since he was a kitten, and he's never had a waist. So Mom took him to the vet's.

...Turns out, he has liver disease.

The vet told Mom he was quite jaundiced. It's hard to see in cats (Mom says the vet showed her how to check by pulling their eyes open wide or peeling the sides of their mouths open), but I still feel terrible for not noticing. At least now we know how to regularly check that in all of our cats.

Apparently though, if the vets can get him stable, this is something which is fairly common in cats and can be managed. So we're crossing our fingers. He spent the night at the vet's for treatment, and when Mom called this morning he was doing better...if not great. (At least he made it through the night!) We might go visit him later today, as the vet said we could.

I hope my kitty will be okay. I really, really don't want to lose another cat.


Personal health stuff )


Dog update

Feb. 2nd, 2008 02:38 am
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." ([DW] K9 - good boy!)
Well, THAT was short-lived. Doesn't look like we'll be keeping the dog, after all. I have no idea what's going to happen, actually.

Thursday morning, things were looking relatively hopeful. Wicket slept through MOST of the night - he woke my Mom up whimpering around 7 a.m., but hey, that's still a decent number of hours. (I honestly can't recall when he went to bed - I think it was midnight, though.)

And the cats were doing a bit better about him, too - Manhattan bravely faced off with him a single stair away, until he charged her playfully. Then she retreated. Callisto even came within a foot of me holding him (begging for pets, as usual). Although he was careful to circle around my back (watching Wicket warily), and when he made eye contact with the dog after making his way around the front, he hissed and ran away again. Wuss.

Still, they were coming closer. (Mom suggested we could put him in one of our little kennels and let them sniff, since HE'S not at all afraid of THEM.) And they seem remarkably unperturbed by the fact that he insists on drinking from their water fountain. Mom got me to help her measure him, and his little doggy sweater is 99% finished today - she just needs to finish the buttons.

Then Thursday night, it all went to hell )

In the morning, Mom informed me that after THAT night, there is No Way we are keeping Wicket. She got - le gasp! - three hours of sleep, she tells me. (A fact which admittedly hardly rouses my sympathy, given how little sleep I've often gotten in the past few years because of work and school schedules. I wanted to tell her, "Great, do that for several more days in a row, and THEN you can complain.")

Just to prove how tired she was, Mom proceeded to be an absolutely evil bitch for the rest of the day. Like, oh, A CRANKY TODDLER. *grits teeth, pulls hair* I'd LOVE to see her in the service industry!


Me: So I guess it's a good thing you can't return children, eh? Babies are a lot more work than this.

Mom: You guys were better than this dog.

Me: Are you suggesting we wouldn't be here if we hadn't been?


She also told me that if Wicket didn't sleep well tonight, I could stay up with him. Which...uh, NO. If we (meaning me) aren't keeping the damn dog, I am NOT sacrificing MY sleep for HER [irresponsible] sister's dog. I, unlike the rest of the household, have a job to get up for.

(Oh yes, and dear mother complained to me too that she'd have to watch the dog in the daytime if we owned it. Considering that she depends on MY INCOME, I'd think she could manage to watch the dog. Ultimately, when he's out of puppyhood, he'd be barely more work than our cats - all four of which we specifically chose because they're highly social. And she's already watching the cats in the daytime.)

TONIGHT, Wicket is well again, and fenced into the kitchen rather than my mother's bathroom. Which works well enough, since he can only piddle and poop on tile, where it's easier to clean up. (Oh, and he's very cute crashed on his side.)

And my mother tells me that HEATHER WANTS TO KEEP HIM! *dead* WTF?!?

Mom: So we'll be "Doggy Day-care" until her cats are used to him. He'll stay there at night, but we'll take him some days so her cats get a break.

Me: More like "Puppy Foster Care for Puppies from a Broken Home." I did NOT sign up for that if we're not keeping him. This is bullshit - she can't just leave the care of him to us while she "owns" him.

Mom: Oh, like YOU'D have to worry about that. You're never HERE. You can't have a dog and never BE here.

Then she told me she's going to dig out the big kennel we used when we first got the kittens, so Heather can "crate-train" Wicket.




Jan. 31st, 2008 04:47 am
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." ([DW] K9 - good boy!)
So, latest news:

I might - mightmightMIGHT - be getting...

...a dog.

Well, a puppy. Still, a DOG. It's very, very up in the air right now.

You see, it was going to be my aunt's dog. She lives in a condo with two fluffy black-and-white cats already - Daga and Indy (and yes, they ARE named after race tracks, in case you were wondering) - but apparently her friend is a dog fanatic, and convinced Heather [my aunt] to get the brother of the little female dog she just bought from a local breeder.

And I'm all kinds of mad about that, because from the sounds of it, Heather didn't seriously consider this decision at all. Just...laid down the $900 for it, and bought the dog.

Although luckily, it sounds as if the breeder is VERY responsible and caring, and she offers a full-money-back guarantee on her dogs for the first 2 years. After that point, she will not give your $900 back...but she WILL take back the dog, no matter how old. She will not let her dogs be chucked out on a freeway somewhere. I like that.

It's a bichon/shitzu ("shichon", apparently) and terrier mix (I'm guessing a Yorkie), and Heather even has a tentative name for him. (Wicket, after the Ewok who befriended Princess Leia in Return of the Jedi. Being the Star Wars geek that I am, I approve.) He really does look a bit like an Ewok - snub-nosed, with a heavy eyebrow ridge and bright little black eyes. His coat is mostly golden/tan, with a little bit of black, especially on his tail...that's probably the terrier influence.

And Indy, despite being a coward at first, was getting used to the dog enough that he'd come close enough to taunt it. But it turns out that Daga...isn't eating as long as Wicket is in the condo. Apparently, the dog is between her and her food dish. And she won't come out of her hiding spot to eat.

Heather is deeply distraught and guilt-ridden over this, and contacted the breeder, Collette, to let her know that she would have to return the pup. (Collette: "Sometimes, you know, cats can take up to a month to get used to a dog in the house." Heather: "Um, my cat can't not eat for a month.")

Evidently her friend Colleen (the one with the sister dog) was supposed to pick up and hang on to Wicket until Saturday, when Heather can take him back to Collette. But she flaked out on Heather. So when my mom and I came back tonight from a dinner out at Swiss Chalet, we got an emergency call from Make One (where my aunt works part-time), which turned out to be Heather begging us to take him tonight.

Which of COURSE we did. We'd never turn a stray (human or otherwise) out.

After some discussion on the phone, my aunt is now seriously offering him to me. (Not my mother, because my mom could never afford it.) She's suggested I could pay the $900 to her in installments. (In actual fact, I could do the lump sum, but installments might be a better plan when I have rent and board to pay, plus my Dexedrine prescriptions, so I may just go with the installment plan if I do this.)

Mom and I will have to discuss this with Collette, and my sister would have to agree. (She's already expressed some opposition, although that seemed to center mostly around how our cats would react...she was worried they'd respond like Daga.) And of course our cats would have to show that they could adjust.

But yeah, we might do it.

My lap didn't need a dog, but... )

We will be keeping him until Saturday at least, so we'll see how that all goes.

Opinions, anyone? Keep the dog for a trial run, yes or no?

[Poll #1130521]
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (Callisto)
The July 2007 issue of Scientific American has an article called, "The Evolution of Cats." It's unfortunately not available online, though, or I'd link you guys.

From the "key concepts" summary:

  • The family history of the cat has been murky because cat fossils are sparse and difficult to tell apart. But advances in the study of DNA have made it possible to construct the first clearly resolved family tree for cats.

  • The DNA evidence shows that all living cats trace back to a pantherlike predator that lived in Southeast Asia 10.8 million years ago. The great roaring cats were the first to branch off; seven other lineages followed.

...And apparently the domestic cat comes from the most recent branch ancestor, which lived 3.4 million years ago!

I opened the magazine to the page showing the "cat family tree" and held it in front of Callisto's nose today. (See my icon; that's Callisto, the biggest of our four.)

ME: Look, Callisto! It's your genealogy!

CALLISTO: *sniffsniff* *looks at me: IZ NOT EDEEBALL!*

ME: Well, you're not supposed to eat it, cat.

CALLISTO: *disdain* *rolls over* *look: PLZ TO BE RUBBIN MAH BELIE*

Conversations with him generally go something along those lines.

In other news - because everyone's doing it, and it's actually rather attractive - my badge )

RIP, Tiger

Jun. 11th, 2003 07:12 pm
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (Default)
So my cat, Tiger. Yeah. We had to put her down yesterday.

Another one of my kitties bites the dust )
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (Default)
This left me speechless:

Hi Dan,

On behalf of all the homeless animals who will benefit from your kindness, the
Calgary Humane Society thanks you. Your gift will provide warm, safe beds, full
food dishes, loving care and a chance for a better life for many deserving
animals. You are making Calgary a better, more humane place for all our city's

Thanks to you, homeless animals have hope. You are their friends and their

[ profile] siegeengine was the one who actually made the donation.

I really have no words for how I felt when I found this in my hotmail inbox after I got home from work the day Lester was put down.


Feb. 10th, 2003 08:23 pm
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (Default)
I have to thank everyone who responded to my last couple of posts. So many people here know what it's like to lose a pet, and I love you all for the support.

But, you know what? It's okay.

My mom and my sister got hit harder. I think they were only thinking of what they were losing.

But I kept thinking of...the day we met him in the pet store. And how he was caged up in that white wire box, and how he cried in there. New cats and dogs got little glass displays. But he didn't have a pedigree. He was a mutt, and an abused stray. Who would want him? So he got this little cage, and everybody who came into that store looking for a pet passed him by.

But we weren't looking for a pet.

I remember how he reached out to claw me, so desperate to get my attention and love. And I remember when we noticed his whiskers were short and curled and black, and the pet store owner told us his whiskers had been burned off with a lighter.

Here: he was a scrapper. Born a scrapper, died a scrapper. And when you're a get all the bad breaks. All of them. You learn to take care of yourself. And pick yourself up every time you get knocked down, and lick your wounds clean, and try again.

But every once in a long while, you get a clean shot at something good. And I believe that's what happened to Lester.

So really...I'm not that sad. I sort of think he got what he deserved; when he died, he had a family that loves him. And if he had to go, well, that makes it all worth it, doesn't it? I think so.

And I think he'd agree if he could.
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (Default)
More bad news about Lester.

Lester has leukemia.

Which, of course, has no cure. And there's no treatment for cats. He'd just get sicker and sicker. They say it's a miracle he's still with us, and they have no idea how he's managing that.

So we're getting him put down. It's the only thing to do.

I decided not to go to the hospital with Mom and Nicole. Partially because I have to get ready for work. Partially because I realized I just don't WANT to go. I kind of want to say goodbye, but not like that. Not with him so sick and everyone around crying and bawling and wildly petting him. And hospital smells, and the sounds of crying cats and dogs, all in so much pain. No.

So I'm home. I laid down with Tiger for a while and cried. She's been frantically licking and nuzzling everything she can reach. She hates when we're upset. She laid down with me, and put her head against mine.

You Got a Friend in Me )
beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (Default)
So, this entry contains some bad news about my cat, Lester. Just a warning.

This morning, my mom came to wake me up ad tell me that Lester is in the hospital. He still hasn't been eating recently, and his rash hasn't gotten too much better.

The vets say now he probably won't make it.

Of course, he's one tough kitty. They tell us most cats wouldn't be alive at this point. And he's still hanging in there. So there's a chance - a small chance that they might find something they can treat. But that's not likely.

Mom was really upset and crying. I told her that it's better he goes when he's had a happy home with us, rather than his pitiful cage in the pet store.

She asked me if I'll want to say goodbye when we get definite news that he's going. I said yes, but I have an awful foreboding that I'll have to be running a show.

I really almost can't believe I might not have two kitties greeting me at the door when I come home from school next week.

Tiger loved snuggling with him. She will be so upset.


beandelphiki: Animated icon of the TARDIS from the British television show, "Doctor Who." (Default)

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