Home is the sailor, from the sea; The hunter from the hill

[rolanni]

Hexapuma was. . .interested in the hotel room. He Explored. He found the route from the floor to the desk chair, to the desk, to the microwave, to the top of the entertainment center, and proved it. He likewise found and proved the Alternate Descent direct leap from the top of the entertainment center to the bed. He found the temporary cat box and made it his own; he drank water. He prowled. He sat with Steve and I while we had a snack, and when I woke up in the early morning, he was tucked against my stomach, wide awake and watching the door to the hall.

I think I need to stop reading him urban fantasy.

In the morning, Veronica asked if she could meet "our kitty" so we took him down to the desk, where his public -- Veronica, a woman who might have been the sales manager and one of the maintenance guys -- presented their best wishes for a speedy and successful operation, and oohed and ahed over how beautiful he was. He accepted his rightful adoration with calm and presence, and made sure that he allowed everyone the chance to stroke him.

Then it was time to go. The folks at Portland Veterinary Specialists were wonderful. Dr. Kern made sure we understood the procedure exactly and was patient with questions. We left Hex, reluctantly, expecting to pick him up around five. At loose ends, sort of, we went to Borders, where we signed the two Fledglings they had in-store, after Steve urged the staff to get them down from "up-stock" and put them on the shelves; and I bought books, despite there being no money in the budget to buy books this year.

After Borders, we spaced around the Maine Mall, and took spaghetti and chicken back to the room (among her other good works, Veronica had put us on 2 p.m. checkout, so we could have a base, as she put it, and not have to drive around Portland all day with our luggage in the car). Just as we finished lunch, the doctor called to let us know that Hex was out of surgery and that we could pick him up around 2:30. This we did, after talking with the doctor and reviewing our instructions. The Hexacat had been growing a polyp farm in his left ear, and there were appalling amounts of Bad Stuff to be drained from below the bone. Hex now has a "pirate earring" drain, which may come out on Saturday (pending confirmation from Dr. Slack, our regular vet, tomorrow), or Monday, at latest. He is wearing the Cone of Shame, alas, and not being very patient with it. That stays on until the earring is gone, to prevent messy accidents. We have pain meds to give, and, realsoonnow, a pressure bandage to remove from over the site of the IV.

The bill. . .ouch.

I say again: ouch.

Steve had said that SRM Publisher might need to put out an expanded Hexapuma Relief Fund edition of The Cat's Job to cover expenses. I'd say we're into the territory of the imperative on that front. Watch this space -- and also Journeyman

We are all home now, and all exhausted. Scrabble has not bopped Hex in the head, which I think may be a record.

Comments

[birdhousefrog.livejournal.com]

Nice to hear that Hexapuma is doing well after the surgery and that the motel took such nice care of all of you. While the bill is a big ouch, it does sound as if the surgery was necessary. Cats do recover quickly and the cone of shame will soon be off. Here's hoping it's one of the floppy ones.

Oz

[klingonguy.livejournal.com]

yeah, mostly what Oz said. :)