Hippo and Trent
We picked up Hippo last night and she seems perfectly fine!
The last cat that got declawed (that was Adzuki, our 23 pound maincoon) was such a drama queen about the whole ordeal. She cried all the way to the vet, cried while in recovery, and cried on the way home. When she got home, she couldn't stand on her feet and would walk on her elbows instead. She'd lie on her stomach like a beached whale, arms at her side, back legs limp and splayed as she stuck her face in her food bowl and just lay there. Whenever we'd walk by she's start whining again:
Meow! The pain. Oh, the pain! Oh...can I have more food??? Oh! The pain! the pain the pain...Meoooooow!
We didn't know any better, so of course we were hesitant to get Hippo's claws removed until we absolutely had to. We expected her to react similarly, but nope, she's fine.
She jumped out of her carrier, a little cranky, but quiet. She doesn't seem to have difficulty walking either. Instead of rolling over and feigning defeat or walking on her elbows in a great show of crippledness, she just lifts the front of her paws ever so slightly and keeps pressure off of the toe area. It's cute. It's like walking on your heels. Anyhow, go figure. Hippo's a trooper.
In other news, I saw this picture over at ETS. I was so amused by the pic itself, I didn't bother tracing the source, validity or context.
I can just see the conversation....
Trent: How much?
Andre: only $1000
Trent: Don't fuck with me. How much?
Andre: Honey, it's Dolce y Gabbana. You know these are good shoes. Look at the
leather. It's rockstar leather.
Trent: Yeah, but I've got---er, I mean, my girlfriend has got pumps way better looking than these and they were cheaper--
Andre (cutting Trent off): OH-MY-GOD! Is that a new bicept implant in your arm?
Trent: No, I only fixed my brachioradialis, moron....and HEY, don't cut me off! And, ahem, I happen to work out. This biceps are more fabulous than you. I could crush your balls right about now...
Andre: Oh and you know we'd both love it--
Trent: Just shut up. How much?
Andre: Okay, for you baby, $50.
Trent: Deal. No tax if I pay cash right?
Andre: Oh, alright, just cause you're such a cutie and those'll look so darling on you. I mean, Doc Martins are just soooooo out of style right now. Are you gonna wear those leather hot pants with these cause that would just complement your legs. Vavoom vavoom!
Trent: Look, they aren't for me, okay?
Andre: Whatever. Do you want a purse to go with those shoes?
TRent: Sure--I mean no. Oh fuck it, I'll take a pink one.
The last cat that got declawed (that was Adzuki, our 23 pound maincoon) was such a drama queen about the whole ordeal. She cried all the way to the vet, cried while in recovery, and cried on the way home. When she got home, she couldn't stand on her feet and would walk on her elbows instead. She'd lie on her stomach like a beached whale, arms at her side, back legs limp and splayed as she stuck her face in her food bowl and just lay there. Whenever we'd walk by she's start whining again:
Meow! The pain. Oh, the pain! Oh...can I have more food??? Oh! The pain! the pain the pain...Meoooooow!
We didn't know any better, so of course we were hesitant to get Hippo's claws removed until we absolutely had to. We expected her to react similarly, but nope, she's fine.
She jumped out of her carrier, a little cranky, but quiet. She doesn't seem to have difficulty walking either. Instead of rolling over and feigning defeat or walking on her elbows in a great show of crippledness, she just lifts the front of her paws ever so slightly and keeps pressure off of the toe area. It's cute. It's like walking on your heels. Anyhow, go figure. Hippo's a trooper.
In other news, I saw this picture over at ETS. I was so amused by the pic itself, I didn't bother tracing the source, validity or context.
I can just see the conversation....
Trent: How much?
Andre: only $1000
Trent: Don't fuck with me. How much?
Andre: Honey, it's Dolce y Gabbana. You know these are good shoes. Look at the
leather. It's rockstar leather.
Trent: Yeah, but I've got---er, I mean, my girlfriend has got pumps way better looking than these and they were cheaper--
Andre (cutting Trent off): OH-MY-GOD! Is that a new bicept implant in your arm?
Trent: No, I only fixed my brachioradialis, moron....and HEY, don't cut me off! And, ahem, I happen to work out. This biceps are more fabulous than you. I could crush your balls right about now...
Andre: Oh and you know we'd both love it--
Trent: Just shut up. How much?
Andre: Okay, for you baby, $50.
Trent: Deal. No tax if I pay cash right?
Andre: Oh, alright, just cause you're such a cutie and those'll look so darling on you. I mean, Doc Martins are just soooooo out of style right now. Are you gonna wear those leather hot pants with these cause that would just complement your legs. Vavoom vavoom!
Trent: Look, they aren't for me, okay?
Andre: Whatever. Do you want a purse to go with those shoes?
TRent: Sure--I mean no. Oh fuck it, I'll take a pink one.
posted by cchang at 12:29 PM
2 Comments:
chloe > issac
cindy = genius > meathead
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