Today was 32 hours long. I didn’t do anything, nothing, other than cook for my animals. Maggie’s had enough slurry, she’s not keen on me holding her between my legs, and slowly feeding her slurry from a syringe. Maybe I’m squeezing her too tight, my legs are strong, but a few days ago she decided she’s had enough.
This morning, I pull out the syringe, she ducks her head like I’m gone beat her with it. She actually cowers, what the heck is that about? I go to the fridge, fill it with 5ml fresh water, nothing is too good for my girl, and I drop the caplet in the syringe. As I turn back around, Maggie Rose is tucking her tail, spinning out like Fred Flintstone, trying to gain traction and get the heck outta dodge.
She was sure hoping I was getting chicken from the fridge, but no, I’m a traitor, betraying her.
In the mean time I’m shaking that baby, the syringe, dissolving her meds, asking, well Maggie honey, what’s wrong? Paw up, she says no, ain’t happenin’, runs around our little sofa table. Me, not able to pivot too quickly, yet, I reverse direction, bam, I catch her, I’m kinda giggling.
I don’t ‘think’ it’s the taste that bothers her, she doesn’t gag or spit, but possibly the method of delivery she finds offensive. After all, she does like cat poo. I have to catch her little hinged jaw a certain way to administer her concoction, but I’m gentle. Only a few more and we will have completed the course. She’s so much better. She’s worth the chase.
This is the only excitement at The Cabin.
I’m too lazy to even open a bottle of wine.
It doesn’t matter if it’s snowing, sleeting, or raining tomorrow, we are finding an isolated trail. We need fresh air.
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