Chapter VIII: It’s My Own Invention

This morning as I got to Eviljob, Mehitabel came up to me and asked for food.  I gave her some, and she sniffed at my hand for just a second.  I think she likes me.  :-)  After all, I give her good drugs.

Butsoanyway.

I went by my Dr Vet’s today to seek his opinion.  He said that, if administration is to be oral, what I had is about the best we can do.  He did not think that doubling (or even increasing) the dose would be wise, either.  

Shit.  

I took a break from harassing Mehitabel today—I will try again either tomorrow or Thursday—because my semester is about to begin, and I have errand-stuffs to complete.  Having lunch with Meg, I had a couple of brilliant ideas:  

1)  Feral cats could be taken care of a lot easier if they had corporate sponsors to pay for their sterilisation, shots, and other odds-and-ends, like food, bowls, litter boxes, and carriers.  Think about it—volunteer groups could catch the cats, the vet then puts them under, spays or neuters them, and then the advertisement of whoever their sponsor is could be shaved into their fur.  It’s not permanent, and it is not like cats can read, so what would they care if they had “EAT AT MOM’S”, or “SHOP AT BASS PRO” on them?

2) What I really need here is a tranquiliser gun.  If I had one of those, I could then use the heavy-duty tranquiliser Dr Superhero has that has to be injected, but will knock Mehitabel on her ass in a few minutes.  I checked Amazon and eBay via my cell phone today at lunch, and they do not have any for sale.  In trying to think of where I could come up with a gun, I thought of Bass Pro—and hence the thought that they should give me the tranq gun for free (or lend it out to me) for ad space on Mehitabel, because the amount of money I am spending on these cats became outrageous several weeks ago.  Plus, what do I need with a tranq gun?  They probably would not let me bring it into meetings, which is the only other use I could think of for one.

And what a fine use that would be, too; not to sound too much like The Happy Bunny, but it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside just thinking about it.  :-D

Butsoanyway.

These two ideas *then* led me to the thought that if we were to outlaw all political advertising—you know those annoying signs no one ever cleans up at the end of every election?—and instead insist that all political advertising be done on feral cats…well, we would have a lot less feral cats, ‘cos to advertise they’d have to be spayed or neutered, and all these political volunteers could prove how committed they are by doing non-glammy things such as, oh, chasing Mehitabel around a parking lot.  

Go ahead and laugh—Meg did—but I think I have a good angle here.  

Butsoanyway.

So I went over to Bass Pro to see if they sold tranq guns; they do not, but one person who works in the rifle department is a trapper, and the clerk suggested that I phone him tomorrow, because he was off today.  I am going to do this, and I am going to ask if either (1) I may borrow his tranq gun, or (2, my preferred choice) If I could pay him to help me come catch Mehitabel.  

I am also going to call a nearby-ish group tomorrow who works with wild animals to see if I could borrow one of their guns as well as this god-forsaken city’s zoo.  I am also going to see if Dr Superhero (Chrissy’s vet—I have been remiss in describing how awesome he is) has one he would lend out (he does all kinds of animals, whereas my Dr Vet mainly does cats and dogs).  If I can only get a borrowed gun, I could either try to peg Mehitabel myself (not my first choice), or call a guy who used to work at Eviljob and lives nearby (and was also an Army sniper) to see if *he* would be willing to come bust a cap in Mehitabel’s ass.

:-)  And I say that with love.

Regardless of what happens, I will save my remaining dose for probably Thursday.  Or, if I have outrageous luck tomorrow, I will save it to calm Mehitabel the hell down so that she can be removed from her cage for spaying with minimal lacerations for all involved.  

Or, after this is all over, I may just take it my god-damned self, with a shot of schnapps.

Ok, ok…I am only being facetious on that last one.

But to that point, if I use up my remaining dose without results, I will have only a few options:  convince Dr Superhero or Dr Vet that I am actually *not* a raving junkie (Dr Vet knows I am just a kooky cat-person, but in all reality, Dr Superhero knows Chrissy, not *me*; he may not feel comfortable providing me with more than he has (and I completely respect and expect that), since he already made the comment that he is not supposed to be giving it to me at all) and get another round, or I could go to my regular GP, explain what I am doing, and ask him for one and get my brother to write the other (if I cannot get both from my GP).  I was surprised to find out that they are both *human* sedatives (I called my brother and asked; what Dr Superhero gave me was Valium and ACP or whatever…I forget the letters; it is Ace-somethingsomething).  If Xanax would work on Mehitabel, I would be set for life; I still have this huge-ass bottle left over that I will never go through before it expires; I just don’t travel that often anymore, and that is the only time I really use it.  Perhaps I will also ask Dr Superhero tomorrow if I could throw in like, half a Xanax.

If he doesn’t have a tranq gun I may borrow, that is.  

Or I could just pay the cost of a house call and beg him to come shoot her himself…or whatever one does with Mehitabels that refuse to cooperate.  Maybe I will ask about that, also.