Bang them keys!

Bang them keys!
Must love the writing life...

Saturday, July 9, 2011

X-nay on the Scanner-ay, Treats are bad.

Blah! Walked into a Best Buy and came out with an iPad 64 GB. Now I'm saving for a scanner that also uploads to Evernote. Hole in my pocket for now. Ruined my plans for eating all-you-can-eat Lobster at the Valley View Casino in San Diego. Yup. I have no shame. I eat lobster. Now, I'm on summer break and dirt poor... thanks to this little purchase. I Love my iPad, but it is a bad, bad impulse buy. Will buy my scanner in October. I'm writing this in an iPad program called Blogsy.

Thank goodness I have Xiola to cheer me up. She is due for a visit at Dr. Vasquez's soon. I'm scared they will say she is overweight. As they do every year. I have her on Nutro Weight Management dry food, but mom is putting treats in her food. She says she won't eat otherwise. I told mom NOT to do it, to remove the food completely so Xiola learns to eat without playing us for treat bits; but ma doesn't listen. So I threaten to stop buying the treats, and mom goes into a tirade about how I just love to come up with stupid ways to torture Xi, like I did by cutting out Xi's wet food. Says if I don't listen to her warning, I will kill Xiola like I did Dinah, my Maine Coon cat, who died at age 12 prematurely ....because I changed her diet.

Now, please don't think mom's a meanie head because of what i'm about to narrate. To me, She is the best mom in the whole world. Anywho, when mom pulls that garbage on me, I get mad and tell her that's not the reason Dinah died. She cuts me off and says, "Ya want her to end up dead stiff under my bed?"

Now, that's a low punch in the gut mom aims for. She means stiff like my cat Juno. He died on a Sunday morning. I called out to him and looked under my parent's bed. I freaked out when I saw him. He was stiff. Asked Dad to get him out. I sat in the front porch in shock. He was 10. What happened? Dad brought him out inside a huge, black hefty bag. "Daddy! No!" I cried, "Don't put him in a black bag!" OMG. I lost it, crying up a storm. Dad came out again. This time, he had Juno inside a white Glad bag. Pfffft. Gawed. And we disposed of the body at our local shelter. Then we went to freaking Denny's. When Ma digged into her Grand Slam, she said, "Don't you go getting anymore ideas about getting another cat. I don't wanna wake up and find it stiff underneath my bed." sigh.

Now, if doctor Vasquez tells me Xiola is a fatty, ima use that as amo so Ma cuts it out. North Figueroa is the Best low-cost vet in L.A. People drive from all-over and come from far away places just to see Dr. Vasquez. He and his staff truly care about the animals they see. I highly recommend him. Ask for Senior. It's a father and son business. Jr. is good at what he does, but I recommend his dad. Junior can lecture you into a corner sometimes, but he does it because he truly cares. I just don't want to deal with him because he let me have it for not bringing Dinah in for yearly shots. I don't believe in the over-vaccination of indoor cats, and we both got kinda heated when he lectured me. Sigh. What the heck do I know. According to mom, I killed two cats.

Man. Is this post depressing or what? Think this is something to ponder about on my Hermes 3000 or with a psychologist, geez. I think I better get to those keys now. Man. Now I got a stupid lump on my throat and it's all Xiola's fault for being a piggy. You're lucky you're cute, Xiola!

Great. I just turned on the T.V. For a sec, and that SPCA commercial just came on with Willie Nelson singing, "You Were Always on My Mind." ...The maybe I didn't treat you right part. I'm going nite-nites. Goodnight.