What moving means to me

Pulling a large box out of a larger box and finding....

It happened just like this.

Plan A: Beg manly friend Dave to come over and kill spider

Plan B: Whimper.  Gingerly pick up box by corner and transport downstairs, watching the spider for any signs of wanting to leap out onto my face, and fling the whole thing into the yard while making high-pitched noises of bravery.  Run back upstairs and watch developments from the window.  Hope spider doesn't eat Steve, the neighbor's cat.

Conclusion: Thank God Dave answered his text messages and is a tolerant human being.  I didn't have to attempt Plan B, which is good because I wanted to die just thinking about it.

My cat is...special...

This is a little story about our youngest fur-kid: Jasper.  For those of you who haven't met him, he is a 3 year old black kitty who, although he is around 10 lbs, manages to look like a small kitten- especially next to Talen.  His alternate names are: "the Little Monkey,"  "Jazz-poo,"  and (sorry mom), "the Little Fucker."

ROR!  I have no dignity!

He is an incredibly sweet snuggle-bug and really loves to be under the covers.  In fact, this winter it was not uncommon for me to pick up one of our down throws from the couch and discover that he had curled up underneath it.  He also drools when he is reeeeally happy.  Often on my face in the middle of the night.  Charming.

My blankets.

Jasper, true to his monkey nick-name, is also a shoulder kitty.  He loves to drape himself across my shoulders.  Sometimes, he will unexpectedly leap from the ground up to my shoulders if I am not paying enough attention to him.  This is not an issue in the winter when I am bundled in a hoodie.  This IS an issue in the summer when I am in a tank top and sun burned.

Now we are getting to the "special" part...

We have to feed Jasper in a large, high sided, casserole dish.  Because unlike most cats, who are fairly dainty eaters, Jasper somehow manages to push all of his food out and onto the floor in the process of eating.  It is as if he can't quite figure out how to get the delicious crunchies from his bowl into his mouth and so he just pushes them around until he manages to get one in.

This is what happens if we give him a normal bowl

He also does not drink like a normal cat.  He is certainly capable of normal cat-like drinking, but quite often I will hear splashing from the water bowls and, sure enough, there is Jasper.  Digging in the water.  And then licking off his paws.  Splashing water everywhere.  Or if he is feeling more dignified he just delicately dips one of his paws in the water so he can lick it off.  And then he will jump on you with water dripping from his broken whiskers and one paw soaked up to the elbow.

Did I mention he has broken whiskers?  Don't ask me how, but all of his little whiskers are perpetually broken.

The dishwasher is actually a magical portal into the kitchen

Even as I type this, Jasper is making happy little "purting" noises and dashing from one end of the house to the other.  He just ran into the dining room pushing a reusable grocery bag ahead of him as a portable hiding place.  I have no explanation.

Maudlin Meanderings

I have been in a very low mood of late.  Actually verging on tears for several days.

It was initially hard to see why...although apparently not so much for those who commented on my recent Facebook status: Vet school is about to end.

I have two weeks left until graduation.  Two weeks.

deep breath now...


Two.

Weeks.

I have invested so much into these past four years.  More money than I care to contemplate right now; vast quantities of time and sleepless nights; most of my energy; many emotions getting swept right along...tests both literal and figurative, blood sweat and tears (also both literal and figurative)...

And then of course we come to all my friends.  I can't quite describe the bond that something like vet school gives a group of people, except to say that they are family now.  Maybe it has to do with all that blood sweat and tears, maybe spending 5 days a week for 3 years in the same classroom, maybe it was the enforced bonding time we had in the woods of Idaho before vet school started.  Spending 60+ hours a week together in the teaching hospital and depending on each other for our sanity probably has something to do with it too.  Suffice it to say that I have become very close to some amazing people.  And among my group of friends, I now count several fabulous residents and interns as well.

My entire life has been leading towards the goal of "Veterinarian."  And it is about to happen.  And then suddenly my goal is achieved, I will need to work on new goals (jobjobjobjob), and these past four years will be gone and my friends will be scattering to all corners of the country.  How do you say good bye to all that?

I haven't figured it out yet.  If anyone else has, please let me know.

These are a few of my favorite things