I've already recounted how once in the house, Ace chased and barked at Jasper. My mom called me yesterday and said that Jasper ran away. I don't LOVE the cat (he really is a mean little bugger) but I'm fond of him, and I paid a lot of money for his sorry ass, and this is the second time we've lost him (the first was the day we got him). She kind of laughed it off "oh well he's gone" like she didn't even care, and that pissed me off even more.
Since I was going over there anyway to pick up my dad and bring him to the bird vet with me, I packed up Prism and headed over early to find the damn cat. As soon as I put the box down with the bird in it, Ace was fascinated. He fell instantly in love with Prism, or maybe he's seen birds in boxes before. I brought Prism into the house and put the box on the kitchen counter and started my room-to-room search for the bratty one. Ace was outside whining and yelping so I let him in and he wanted to get to the bird. Funny that Alf loved the birds too.
I looked everywhere, under furniture, in the cellar ceiling, but I couldn't find the cat. But we did that last time too, and he was in a drawer (he was a lot smaller then). I honestly felt the cat was still in the house.
I went to sit upstairs and read the paper. Ace kept attacking the box with Prism in it. She didn't seem to care, but he was biting the corner of the box where she was, and if she was loose I think he'd kill her (not meaning to; wanting to play).
My mom came inside and sat opposite me and I saw that she had turned a framed picture of Jasper around so it was facing the couch and she looked sad when she turned it back. I don't know why she pretends. She says now she cried for days after she had Alf put to sleep but when it happened she acted like it was no big deal.
Nothing exciting happened with my father on the vet visit. The vet doesn't think Prism has arthritis at all. Her left foot has 1 funky turned in toe which seems to have been broken or badly injured in the past; nothing can be done about it but that doesn't hinder her. The right foot has the two back toes going forward and she walks on her elbow, and the vet played with that foot and said all the toes work and she has strength in that leg, but not as much as the other leg. She also clearly has pain. The vet made her a "shoe"--a flat piece of foam with her toes taped to it in the correct configuration, hoping that her back toes will turn back out again and she'll regain use of that foot. Poor bird HATES the shoe, she can't climb at all, she's miserable, and this is for two weeks. Plus she's getting medicine twice a day which isn't fun for either of us as she won't just drink from the dropper like a good bird.
Late last night my mom called and talked to Will and said they found Jasper in the basement. Five minutes later she called and asked for me and said today she was taking the dog back. After she raved what a great dog he is. She has hardly given the cat and dog a chance to be friends.
Living in the Shadow of Alzheimers
4 years ago
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