Monday Jan. 23
I awake and see that Phoebe is still hobbling on her left leg. I call the Cat Hospital, and they can get her in at 2 p.m. After breakfast, I head over to Harbor Freight tools for a Crescent wrench and some duct tape, because the seat on the bicycle keeps sliding down. I figure I will wrap the "tube" to the bike seat in a layer of duct tape, then tighten the nut extra hard. I give it a good tighten, and hope that will do it. I also secure the basket rack to the frame, because I notice that if I go over a nasty bump, the entire basket and rack will fly off the frame of the bike! I LOVE Harbor Freight tools because I HATE buying tools. I don’t consider myself a “handyman.” When something goes wrong, I usually (99 times out of 100) will pick up the phone and call whatever professional is required for the job. Yes, it costs money, but to me it’s worth it for what I save in “time and torture.” I’ve done enough DYI projects to know that they usually involve a dozen trips to the hardware store, and I end up with a half-assed job anyway, or worse I screw something up and have to call the professionals anyway, and it costs me more because they first have to “undo” the damage I’ve created in the first place. My point is, when I MUST buy tools, I buy the cheapest ones I can because I figure they are for “one-time” use, after which they will be lost and/or long forgotten in the hodgepodge of tools I own that are scattered among drawers, shelves, and various piles scattered four levels (basement to attic) of my house. For example, I probably own four sets of drill bits and four sets of socket wrenches, NONE of which is complete because the “key” sizes always get lost or broken or orphaned in another level of the house. There is simply no point in my buying tools with a “lifetime warranty,” because it does not cover loss due to attention deficit disorder. I think about Dad and how organized he was with this tools with all of his pegboard, and him telling me to “always buy Craftsman tools because Sears will replace them for free if they ever break.” Sorry, Dad, but that little bit of handyman DNA just simply did not pass to me.
And apparently, many share my philosophy, because the Harbor Freight tools place is hopping for a Monday morning … I’ll bet from all the DYI-ers who couldn’t find that 1/2 inch socket wrench or that 1/8 inch drill bit that they needed over the weekend because it was missing from their set or sets. So there you go; I am not alone.
The appointment time for Phoebe comes up, so I pack her in the road case and drive the 1/4 mile to the vet clinic. She is not a happy camper. There is a whole shitload of intake information that must be taken down, and a call must be made to the Evansville Vet to verify vaccinations and to establish some sort of credibility that I am a responsible pet owner. The vet’s name is Matthew Gatof, and he is very nice and has a good bedside manner and talks nice to Phoebe. His diagnosis is that she got into a catfight while outside, and this surprises me because I saw no physical evidence of a catfight, but he says he sees this kind of thing all the time. He takes a blood sample to ensure she can tolerate the antibiotic and the anti-inflamatory they want to give her. To do this, they must put a blindfold over Phoebe, which just freaks her out all the more as two technicians hold her down while the vet draws the blood. I break down and cry and little bit at this point for having put Phoebe through this, but I shake it off. This was an accident, and shit happens, even in a winter Paradise I guess. He says this should clear it up, but that I am too keep an eye on her, and he wants to have a followup visit on Thursday. I present my Visa card for the bill, which is $283.
I get Phoebe home. I am tired myself from the stress and not sleeping very well last night, so I take a nap. When I awake, I have a little dinner, and then tune in to the History Channel because tonight is “Pawn Stars” night, and I need something light in the entertainment department. Phoebe is hungry for her nightly portion of soft food, and I notice she is putting weight on the left leg, so the anti-inflammatory must be working, at least for now.
Zero expenses today.
Bruce
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