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What I Didn’t on My Vacation.

Posted by Dirck on 16 February, 2010

The plan for this past week off was to accomplish some household chores that my wife and I have been letting slide due to distraction from my Regular Job and our son. Having gotten atop this small but uncomfortably waxing pile, I could then without any parent/spouse-shame apply my energies to abolishing some overdue pen repairs.

I mentioned some time ago that having expectations is a bad idea, right?

As the week developed, some of the more life-threatening household items were put to rest (or, in the case of the kitchen sink, forced into a fighting retreat, having lost the beach-head). Most of the pens that needed attention, being other people’s pens, are now done, although a couple of resisters are still holding out.

For a change, what got in the way of my efforts at maximizing my home-body efficiency was not simple inborn indolence. I spent a lot of time that I should have been mopping, cleaning, and otherwise getting the house ready to face the Year of the Tiger with a sick cat in my arms.

He was in my arms for a couple of reasons. He wasn’t walking so well, and had rather given up on eating. Holding him seemed to make him less worried about the former, while allowing us to address the latter by dribbling cat-specific milk-replacement into him with a syringe.

This problem began a little before the vacation, and we had thought it was probably a stroke given some of the earlier symptoms (and an utter lack of anything being wrong in his sub-head organs, revealed by some rather expensive blood analysis). Last Sunday, though, we found him sprawled in the kitchen, unable to work out how to get enough traction on the lineoleum to stand. The vet’s final opinion, given on Wednesday just ahead of the merciful injection, was a brain tumour.

The latter part of the week saw me consoling my wife frequently and taking my son out for boys’ adventures so she could weep in a privy manner. It turns out I’m a better Buddhist than I thought, as I seem to have leapt straight through the so-called Stages of Grieving to acceptance, with only a little bit of blubbering in the vet’s office.

I don’t want to minimize any of these non-chore, non-pen activities, because I think keeping one’s spouse from going mad with grief is somewhat more important than cleaning mirrors. But this is a place where I want to keep the tone light.

Still, only two pens left to be repaired, several already on their way home, and a family still well lashed together (albeit slightly smaller). We may call this productive.

Ryoga Maru 1999-2010

Today’s pen: Hero 285
Today’s ink: Lamy blue-black

10 Responses to “What I Didn’t on My Vacation.”

  1. hualda said

    how old is the cat?

  2. wordsworthwhile said

    I am very sorry about your cat. That is hard.

    • It is, and I thank you for the thought. I think my wife is taking it harder than I because she associated him with her ineffably ancient cat who died about six months after we’d got him. He was the gentlest of his species I’d known, given to studying creeping bugs rather than batting at them.

  3. Inkanthropist said

    Very sorry to hear about your cat. The Penquod has three feline passengers, and I can’t imagine life without them.

  4. […] shutting down for the day– what was it in 1999 that predisposed cats to an early end?  The other cat we lost this year was born in that year, as was the one who passed away at my in-laws house last week of the […]

  5. […] title really has to go to our now-long departed big blue cat, who was so retiring that most of our friends thought we were pretending to have a cat.  I, […]

  6. […] mentioned the passing of three other cats, all from similar maladies (the completist ghoul may look here, here, and somewhat inconclusively here).  The last of those was almost certainly harbouring the […]

  7. […] mentioned the passing of three other cats, all from similar maladies (the completist ghoul may look here, here, and somewhat inconclusively here).  The last of those was almost certainly harbouring the […]

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