Greasy Kitty Head

On Wednesday I took Mia to the vet. All by myself. This means that I endured an incessant onslaught of meows for twenty minutes one way and twenty minutes back. It also means that I drove on the freeway. All by myself. SO THERE, FREEWAY PHOBIA!

She'd been shaking her head and scratching with unusual vigor--a vigor even unusually more unusual than her constant state of unusual kitten vigor--and since the fleas seem to be in a temporary state of remission, we thought there must be something wrong with her ears. So Wednesday morning, I fastened on the kitty kitty bling bling, fetched the carrier from storage, and opened the door to it. She walked right into it without any prompting whatsoever, and I can only imagine it was because she might have thoughts like these sometimes:

"Hey, fun, it's kind of like a cardboard box. I love to go into cardboard boxes, so I should go into this box. First, it must be sniffed and then I will mark it with my pungent kitty scent by rubbing my head all over it. And then I will chew on its edges. And then I will leave because now I am bored with it!"

Or not. Possibly, cats do not in any way think about anything at all because their brains are very small, but I think it's funny to pretend that she has some amount of logic. Alien kitty logic. Or whatever.

So she went right into her carrier, and then I closed it shut and said, "AHA! I have FOOLED you, CAT!" And she said, "Meow?" And I said, "That's right, bitch, we're going to the doctor." And then she freaked out.

The vet admired Mia's jewels and confirmed our suspicions about her ears. Mia has a YEAST infection. I promised Mia that I wouldn't tell the internet about her ear yeast infection because it is an embarrassing affliction, and I knew that she knew that if it were my ear yeast infection, I wouldn't want the internet to know about it either, but what Mia forgot is that I am a HUMAN and I am not to be trusted because sometimes I don't recycle and often times I waste food and when I was in environmental club in college I so totally shot down this idea about adopting a stud bear in Colorado or somewhere just because--duh, it was environmental club, not animal club, and are you seeing a pattern here yet?

Anyway, the vet gave us an ointment we have to rub in Mia's ears twice a day for two weeks in order to destroy the embarrassing yeast in her ears. This practice has resulted in--GREASY KITTY HEAD. So now, not only is Mia a host for unsightly yeast, but she also looks like a dirty old homeless man who just can't catch a break and hasn't shaved in a year or taken a shower either. And it gets even worse--the grease from the ointment has begun to slowly spread all over her little kitty body, so that soon we will most surely have a full blown greasy kitty.

Also, why does learning how to play poker feel like punishment? Geeze, I'll be glad to have a job again. I think everyone who reads this will agree.

Update: So poker is cool, huh? Who knew?