First, I noticed yesterday that Roz Stendahl has some new journals posted to her website. I spent some time yesterday looking through them, and recommend that y’all do so, too. They’re truly wonderful.
Second, Rory is back from the vet. Two nights of hospitalization, catheterization, meds, etc. cost US$322. Two techs brought him out in his carrier, soaked in urine, with a kennel lead wrapped around him. Apparently they couldn’t get it off him, which is understandable. He’s semi-feral and freaked out by strangers. Still, they’re professionals and I don’t think it’s too much to ask for them to be able to handle one cat, no matter how badly he’s behaving. More disturbing is that I was unable to actually talk to the vet. I was given my cat and his meds and sent home. That’s the final straw. As soon as he’s through with this course of antibiotics, I’m taking him on well visits to try on a couple of other vets. There have got to be better diagnosticians out there or, at least, a vet who will actually communicate with owners.
Third, I really (really!) hate it when people tell me how to think, feel, or behave. Aside from inciting an initial “you’re not the boss of me” reaction (and, seriously, they aren’t and it’s damned silly for them to delude themselves into thinking they are), it’s spectacularly rude. It’s no way to treat a child, adult, or barnyard animal. It’s controlling, condescending, placating, dehumanizing, and just plain offensive. The subtext is that you’re overreacting and that your response has no merit. In essence, you do not matter. You are nothing. You have no right to have feelings. You are denied a voice.
Inherently, I believe it is also an act of violence. Your voice is the only thing in this world that is entirely your own. When someone takes that away from you, you cease to exist. People fight wars over this sort of thing, so why is it so difficult for some folks to understand that it matters?
red paper boat 