Hey, today was a good day. Didn't have to use my litter tray

Today was quite a day, and it's not quite over.

I'm writing this from the Emergency Hospital in St. Paul, where the nurse was kind enough to let me use her computer, for a small fee, of course. I said just tack it on my "aide de camp's" credit card along with everything else, and she just smiled back knowingly.

You see, I became quite ill this morning when administered my morning insulin shot. My owner didn't notice this, of course, because afterwards he promptly left for work. But something was not right with your's truly! Upon waking, Stephanie grew wise to my condition after finding me curled up next to my own dung, and unable to walk more than three steps without toppling over. Did your kitty hero get himself into a mess o' the Captain's private booze stash and go off on a jag? Or was there something "medical" at the root of my problem?

Well, first let me explain to you how diabetes mellitus works. My pancreas or kidneys or some silly organ in the vicinity of my ass doesn't produce insulin like it is supposed to do. Insulin is needed to keep one's blood sugar from rising too high such that they don't become like a proverbial spaz and go streaking in public or support Patty Wetterling's Senate bid.

But the opposite happened this morning. I was given too much insulin! That's bad too! My normally off the chart blood sugar level fell into negative territory, much like Ted Kennedy's presidential aspirations after driving that one girl off a bridge or being caught doinking some other hussy on his boat outside Hyannisport. But enough about politics... I was majorly fucked up! I kept on falling over and couldn't make it to the food bowl or the litter box.

My owner, upon returning from work, wished to make like Russia and delay any sort of ruling on Iran's nuclear policy until at least mid march, but his strong willed (or coercive, if you like.. I decline an opinion) sweetheart thought it was best to bring me to the kitty emergency hospital, where a minimum visit/consultation costs $96. Thanks a ton Stephanie, you either saved my life, or killed CPA's personal income expectations for the month of January, or both. But I'm having a ball right now!

The vet was a very nice man who shared a last name with our president. He said I had an extreme case of hyperglycemia or that, more seriously, I might have a serious condition brought upon from stress related to having an owner with an oversized penis! The nice vet tech girl offered to check the second conjecture, but Stephanie was all about business.

So they got me where I am now, doped up on a catheter/IV with a nice bowl of sugary sludge in front of my face and "Wedding Crashers" playing on the 52 inch TV. Not bad at all! They say I get to stay here until at least three in the morning, at which time Stephanie will play prime party pooper and take me home.

The vet offered a bill which ranged between $800 and $1200, depending on how big of a sucker your owner is. Apparently if you're already there they figure you're a pretty big jerk-off to begin with! CPA sniffed a trap and made known his intention to take me home immediately, but again Stephanie came to my rescue! She said no, the cat is staying until he gets a clean bill of health. Haha, the joke is on all of them because that will never happen!

I'm still partying it up on University Ave right now as we speak, and that bill is much like the meter in a taxi cab, except that it goes up in $50 increments rather than mere change. Thanks Stephanie, you're the greatest! When I get out, I'm giving this nice pink bandaid wrapped around my paw to you as a symbol of my affection.

Rum Tum Tiger is a curious cat

Sometimes Stephanie and I have problems in our relationship. She gets upset when I wake her up fifteen times a night by scratching at her face or sitting on her head. I guess this keeps her from getting a good night's sleep that she needs to be a good student. I sleep during the whole day so can't really relate to her problem.

What Stephanie doesn't know is I only do this because I love her so much and can't bear to leave her be. Molesting her is my own special way of showing that I care. My feline therapist says I need to find other ways of expressing my feelings. But he's never met Stephanie. She's the best gal a kitty could have.

This is my late friend and mentor, Coalsy (in back). He taught me many things, such as the Buddhist way of non-attachment. But I never quite got the hang of it, and that's why I ate so much and got so fat and then got feline diabetes, and now cost my owner a pile of money just to keep my sorry ass alive.

This rodent posing as a cat is Gustav. He thinks he's so much more handsome than me, because his tummy doesn't sweep the floor when he walks or swing side to side like a fat pendulum when he runs. He claims to be purebred chocolate point Siamese, while my mother was a tabby whore.

If I'm a Bunker Hill Community College student, then he goes to Harvard. But I still have ways to get even. Like hissing at him.

The greatest magicians have something to learn

So today I try out this new Tidy Cats brand of kitty litter which brags "All New Odor Lock" clumping control.

Not impressed.

I've got two litter boxes, both of them covered. One is blue and the other, shown here, has a Bush Cheney sticker on the side (not shown). I'm not too keen on that detail, so to show my disatisfaction I usually leave my intestinal offerings on the newspaper pages below. It's the Wall Street Journal anyways. 

Here's me with the woman of my dreams, Stephanie. Our relationship started off rather rocky when, minutes upon meeting me and carressing my luscious off-white fur, she confessed to breaking out in hives and not being able to breathe. But luckily first impressions were not enough to destroy the budding fruit that was to be our relationship. She and I cuddle almost all the time! We're going on almost five months as cuddle friends. 

C'mon, c'mon, listen to the kitty talk

Today I didn't get my insulin shot until 8:45 a.m. rather than my 7 a.m. usual dosage. Add that to being already miles off my blood sugar schedule and deprived of my thyroid pills for a week, and you've got yourself one messed up kitty!

Dealing with all that extra glucose can really be a bitch! So I'll tell you what I did. I woke up Stephanie at 8:45, 9:00, 9:17, 9:33 (I needed to use the rest room so fell off schedule), 9:48, 10:17 (I got lazy and took a nap), 10:36 (I needed to again use the rest room) and 11:00 until my lovely friend got out of bed. I guess she wanted to cuddle with me one on one, I can only suppose. But I was glad to oblige.

All in all, it was a good day.

This is me, in one of my most seductive poses. Notice how my mouth is partly open, exposing my blackened gums! I think this makes me look sophisticated and multi-faceted. This is my blog, all about my daily adventures (or lack there of!)