KYRY (No, It's Not A Radio Station)

Well, last Friday we took in Cucho and our other cat, The Other Cat, to get fixed. Cucho's operation went off without a hitch, except for the fact that we can no longer call him Coochie-Balls. Aside from an afternoon of slamming his head into a window (there was a bird outside, and he was still high on anaesthesia) he's recuperated fine, and doesn't seem to have noticed that anything's missing.

The Other Cat, on the other hand, is another story. First of all, we got caught totally off-guard when the vet assistant asked us the cat's name, since the cat didn't actually have a name. We usually called her "The Other Cat," so we stammered for a moment or two until Angela or I finally just said "Kitty," which is what we call her when we say things like, "Kitty, get your ass outside!" So apparently we have a second cat named either The Other Cat or Kitty (although the vet's assistant spelled "Kitty" as K-Y-R-Y, which, although it may seem incredibly dense of her, if you know about Spanish phonetics and pronunciation, the spelling actually makes sense).

So, we wanted to get Kitty fixed, too, since she, being female and all, was a lot more likely than Cucho to give birth to a bunch of other cats that we didn't really want. We were worried she may not be able to get the operation, though, since she was obviously sick with some sort of mucus and breathing problems. And, as it turns out, pregnancy. Dammit!

In any case, if the little cat gets through the antibiotics and whatever other medicines the vet gave her, then she may or may not give birth to 2 to 8 little bundles of mewing joy. And now we sort of feel more sorry for her, so we're trying to be extra nice to her. I'll keep you updated, but just in case, does anyone want a free cat??

(Picture by Dustin Colburn)