When I was a kid, I was sick all the time. Literally, every month or so, I’d have a new infection or asthma attack or bug or some kind of weird whatever. Every time I had to go to the hospital, I’d get a doll or some candy or some kind of toy. So, when Fancy came back from the ultrasound* today, it only felt right. Here’s what she scored from her harrowing ordeal:
- 1 new fluffy fleece cushion for her favorite corner
- 1 pair of grooming gloves (since she *desperately* needs groomed and hates the brush, I figured this is a gift for her and me)
- 1 bag of seriously strong organic catnip
- 2 little chicken-shaped boppy toys that pop straight back up when she bats at them (hypothetically, as in, if she ever bats at them)
- 5 cans assorted flavors Science Diet wet food (she loves canned food)
- 1 betta fish complete with contemporary-style bucket (what we commonly refer to as any container for holding a pet)
I sat the fish in his little cup down in front of her on the table when I walked in the door. She vaguely registered that something had been introduced to her environment. Sniffed at it with complete disinterest.
Me: “That’s your fishy!”
Fancy: *silence*
Me: “What are we going to call it?”
Fancy: *ear twitch*
So, we are now the proud new owners of one crazy-looking red betta fish named Twitch.
*We need some time to process everything we learned today, and should know more on Monday. I’ve been shuffling, cataloging, and reorganizing all the information, possibilities, probabilities, and prognoses into one thousand different “what if” scenarios all day and we’ve both been to the gates of Hell and back today. My mind is too cloudy to write about it today, but suffice to say, so far, it’s not horrible, it’s not wonderful, and we’ll know more by Monday. Until then, we’re just gonna keep on keepin’ on.