Hope springs eternal

Otherwise known as "What was I thinking?"

I came home Wednesday evening with my plans made for this morning and beautifully executed in my head. Here is how I imagined it: I would wake up a little earlier than normal. Chubby would get immediately into the trap when I baited it with tuna. I'd be at the vet's office by 7:30 a.m. and home by 8. I knew I couldn't get to the vet's before closing, but I could call a friend who could pick him up. I'd just add the charges to my credit card and come home to find a medically treated Chubby curled up in the trap. All would work out perfectly.

This morning reality set in. I didn't get up quite as early as planned. I had not included the fact that I would have to finish unloading the dishwasher and reload it before I could wash a skillet to cook up breakfast. I forgot that I would probably have to change the litter box and take out the trash. What made me think that Chubby, a skittish cat, would trust me enough to just go into a trap, even baited with tuna or sardines, on first sight? Or that I could make the trip to the vet, fill out all the paperwork and get home in one hour? Had I checked with my friend to see if she could pick him up? I knew Keith couldn't help as he had store visits to do. Should I drive myself frantic trying to meet some unreasonable goal, or would I be sensible and just wait until tomorrow when I have the day off?

I asked Keith what he thought about it. Wait until tomorrow, he said. A few minutes later he said Chubby's waiting for his breakfast. I went to check on him and give him some food. He was quite ravenous as he hadn't been fed the night before. (You have to make sure they're good and hungry to make them easier to trap. Lifeline has a whole list of suggestions to help you become a successful trapper.) He came up to eat, and I could see that it had indeed been an abscess as it had burst. He actually looked more comfortable, but we are still going to the vet. Even if I can't trap him tomorrow, I have the trap available for all next week too. I may prop it open and feed him in there to show him that it's safe.

I have learned with aging pets over the past few years to get really worried when they stop eating. As long as I'm getting the "I'm hungry, human, where the hell is the food?" meows, I know they're ok. Chubby was most definitely talking and letting me know he needed food. Think Garfield and lasagna.

As for knitting, I made some progress on Keith's grey sock while I was at the knitting guild meeting. We had Joyce Williams as our guest speaker. This woman knits sweaters with laceweight and fingering weight yarns. I am in awe of that. She must have a helluva lot time to knit, and I bet she's fast too. I've also made some progress on the prayer shawl. I'm about midway through ball 4 of my yarn. That would be 756 yards of yarn knitted so far. As for me, right now I can't decide if I want a nice cup of tea or a Mudslide, although I think we're out of Kahlua. Have a good night.