<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11148678</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:20:19.214-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moecat's Memoirs</title><subtitle type='html'>The musings of a mild-mannered, urbane cat doomed to live a life of lonely misery deep in the Middle of Beyond.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://moecatsmemoirs.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11148678/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://moecatsmemoirs.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mosley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14050142643836955592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://chromatism.net/current/images/moscrabble.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11148678.post-111126587131844140</id><published>2005-03-19T12:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-19T12:57:51.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Recuperating Nicely, Thank Yew</title><content type='html'>A sincere thank you to everyone for all the cards and flowers. The florist is no doubt in ecstasy over the Jag he'll be able to buy with the proceeds...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, I am home from the hospital. Moving gingerly, but still on my feet after all. I went to the ER last Sunday -- whenever I sleep in the litter box, it's a clue to everyone to get out the cage and get a move on -- where the blockage was removed from my, ahem, urethra. Or what remains of it since the butterfly surgery. That catheter was heaven, believe me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The xrays showed a number of stones, a story verified by the subsequent surgery. I have a zipper on my abdomen now and they've sent the stones off to the lab to see exactly the nature of whatever it is my body is calcifying. There were about twenty or so little rocks which clinked against the sides of the bottle when you shook them. Why anyone would want to do this is beyond me, but I saw them shaking it myself. Takes all kinds, hmm...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The initial exam by the ER vet was a real downer. She said my "quality of life" was poor and suggested that I might make a good candidate for euthanasia. Pardon me??? Way too much of that attitude going around, if you ask me. And I &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; asked. I declined. Thanks, anyway, but for the non I shall continue tottering between --excuse me, &lt;em&gt;among -- &lt;/em&gt;bed, bowl, and box.  "Put him down," indeed. I deeply question that woman's credentials and sexual orientation. Especially the latter. And I don't care if you don't like my politically incorrect remarks. Eunuchs get to say whatever they damn well please about other genders. So stuff it, sweets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting my anti-biotics by injection now. Twice a day. Beats hell out of the naugahyde gloves and wild, mad drooling attacks that went with oral meds. No thank yew. They just stick me in the ruff, where I mostly don't feel anything. Works fine. I may actually get to finish a round of anti-biotics for the first time ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I jumped -- well, not exactly 'jumped.' Makes my stitches hurt to think about such a precipitous move. Let's just say I climbed slowly from floor to chair and then -- onto my perch by the fig tree. The weather is mild and the smells from the open window enticing. I will be glad to see the outdoors for real soon. Probably not for several weeks yet, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a new digital camera in the house. If anyone thinks they're going to take a picture of me with the tonsure for my ringworm on my back or the bald-stomach-with-zipper-pose, I suggest they re-consider. I may have had surgery and be in a delicate invalid condition, but my claws work fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non-negotiable. NO pictures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11148678-111126587131844140?l=moecatsmemoirs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://moecatsmemoirs.blogspot.com/feeds/111126587131844140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11148678&amp;postID=111126587131844140' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11148678/posts/default/111126587131844140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11148678/posts/default/111126587131844140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://moecatsmemoirs.blogspot.com/2005/03/recuperating-nicely-thank-yew.html' title='Recuperating Nicely, Thank Yew'/><author><name>Mosley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14050142643836955592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://chromatism.net/current/images/moscrabble.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11148678.post-110981346221075785</id><published>2005-03-02T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-02T17:31:02.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Color Me Blue</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Well, they let me out today. I get to wander the kitchen now... whoopie. Don't know if I can stand the thrill...be still my heart...for revenge I plop my fat, bald butt on the table at the window so I can watch the snow...they can't watch me all the time so they'd better learn to keep it covered...I will give them the plague, ha hahahaha. Ha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;And she bought me a collar. It's not even May yet and I have the damn thing strung around my neck. It's got all sorts of herbs and potions to ward off the odd fungus or two (actually, all of them are odd). I feel like some Italian fat boy whose Mamma makes him wear garlic and a scapular. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt; Maybe I'll amuse them and sing something from &lt;em&gt;The Barber of Seville.&lt;/em&gt; Little do they know I've figured out the radio buttons. Only so long you can take Satie before you st&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;art&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; winding downand playing withyourself, that is if you have anything left to play with, which I don't since they removed all my gear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;However, I do get the Bose back to &lt;em&gt;Gymnopedie&lt;/em&gt; as soon as I hear them stirring. They haven't a clue and I plan to keep it that way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Wish I had some good mustard to gag down that rabbit. It was okay the first day, but jeez, rabbit three times a day? Get a clue, folks...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11148678-110981346221075785?l=moecatsmemoirs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://moecatsmemoirs.blogspot.com/feeds/110981346221075785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11148678&amp;postID=110981346221075785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11148678/posts/default/110981346221075785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11148678/posts/default/110981346221075785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://moecatsmemoirs.blogspot.com/2005/03/color-me-blue.html' title='Color Me Blue'/><author><name>Mosley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14050142643836955592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://chromatism.net/current/images/moscrabble.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11148678.post-110963484863828655</id><published>2005-02-28T15:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T15:54:08.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life in a Room</title><content type='html'>&lt;a name="prev"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Will Boy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your suggestion re Gershwin has some merit. We did have a similar style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, he is dead and you removed my piano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OTOH, Gershwin is a bit urban for my tastes. But he'd be a change. I'll let you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moslee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS Glad you're learning to cook. What can you do with the rabbit offal they've been feeding me? Hurry home and let's discuss this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, Lulu is licking herself hairless again. The People in Charge think she might be the carrier for this scrofulous condition. I daren't let anyone see me.Cheers, bah.MM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11148678-110963484863828655?l=moecatsmemoirs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://moecatsmemoirs.blogspot.com/feeds/110963484863828655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11148678&amp;postID=110963484863828655' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11148678/posts/default/110963484863828655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11148678/posts/default/110963484863828655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://moecatsmemoirs.blogspot.com/2005/02/life-in-room.html' title='Life in a Room'/><author><name>Mosley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14050142643836955592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://chromatism.net/current/images/moscrabble.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
