Saturday

I missed Biscuit in my bed last night.  He finally joined me this morning and we lay in bed together, him purring, for about an hour before I got up and fed him. 

He had a pretty good appetite and ate a decent amount of food.  Then I caught him and tried to give him his medicine.  Yesterday I had written how he was "sweet" and "good".  He was not, today. 

He didn't try to hurt me, like Torbie would.  He just tried to pull back and run away.  I struggled with him for a while.  On the one hand, I'm really happy he has the energy to do battle.  I'm a lot like a cat - when I'm really sick I've got no fight in me.  But once a cat is better, they start struggling, and then you have the whole battle without harming them. 

At least, unlike Torbie, he didn't actively try to harm me.  He did not use his claws or bite.  He was, even in his resistance, a good boy. 

Speaking of Torbie, there she goes, going after Biscuit's food.  She is very interested in it.  I chased her off and put up the food. 

I got dressed, all in black, funny when you think Biscuit is nearly all-white, and we headed out the door.  We went to Sam's Club and bought supplies.  I had enough time after my purchase to buy a couple of hot dogs. 

I am still doing my 16:8 fast (you can google it).  I eat between 11-7. 

Jack came and we went to work.  They were doing bag searches again at work.  Frustrating.  I got our stuff in the building and Jack left. 

Then, the usual, helping Ron, put up the merchandise, stock the worst looking snacks so they look better.  I plugged in soda 3 again and we will see how it goes.  It will likely need a repair. 

The other machines were fine, though.  I put out the sandwiches we got Monday.  Monday, we had too many sandwiches already, and all of them going out in 3 days.  It would have been stupid to put out "better" sandwiches, sell those, and then throw away the "older" ones (but still good). 

I was really hungry by this point, 10:30, so I decided to eat early, and I will stop eating at 6:30.  I selected one of the turkey sandwiches. 

This requires a little backstory: at work, we have a policy that everyone must use their own badge to get into the building.  You cannot let anyone else in on your badge.  It is a security measure, what if a disgruntled employee is fired, and comes back?  But he doesn't have a badge.  He will just ask Heather to let him in, pretend he left his badge at home, and still works there. 

Hell no.  Not on my watch.  I have heard stories of people (not where I work) getting shot and their badge taken by the bad guy.  That is what will have to happen to me because I don't let anyone in.  Ever.

So, one day a guy I know by sight took an unauthorized break.  Now, they monitor the badge usage and can see if people are taking unauthorized breaks.  That is why they are always - well, always tried, to get me to let them in and out.  But I have a reputation for not doing that, ever, so they don't try.  Most of them. 

Anyway, this guy came up behind me one day, totally in my personal space.  I have access to a special door because I have Ron in the wheelchair, and I also bring cartloads of merchandise in regularly.  He came up behind my cart, totally invading my personal space, as I came up on the door, badge in hand. 

I stopped.  He looked at me and told me to go through.  I told him he would have to let himself through the turnstile.  He told me to go through again.  I explained, I don't let anyone in, ever.  He blew up at me and said he would never shop with us again, took out his own badge, went through the turnstile under HIS name, and stomped off down the hall.   He knew he was doing a bad thing - that could have gotten Ron and I booted from our job - and he knew it.  That's why he blew up. 

The punchline is he only ever bought 1-2 sandwiches a week.  We don't make any money on the sandwiches so we could "afford" to lose his business.  And I would rather not have a guy like that in my space anyway.  But the other vendor sells very few of these sandwiches. 

So he came back, and makes a big production out of buying a sandwich now and then.  Anyway, he watched me eat the sandwich, went over to the machine, looked at it, and came stomping over to me. 

Is the guy ever not angry?  He said "all" my sandwiches were "old".  I said they had good codes.  Yes, but they would expire in a few days.  How long was he planning on keeping the sandwich?  I said that was all I had and he was welcome to go visit the other vendor.  He stomped off. 

I should have told him something along the lines of "You saw me eat a sandwich, they are very good.  if they are good enough for me, the vendor, they ought to be good enough for you."  But he wouldn't have liked that and might have tried to make trouble. 

I bet he went back after we left! 

Other than that, it was uneventful day at work.  We left and waited outside, the weather was pretty nice. 

Our ride came quickly, a nice driver who actually wanted to hear about Biscuit.  We had a straight trip, went in the house. 

I was so happy when I heard Biscuit meowing from the house, as we stood in the garage.  We put the door down, opened the door to the house, and greeted him.  His tail was up and he was purring, rubbing against me.  He went over to where I keep the food and looked at me. 

I took out his food and gave it to him (he didn't finish breakfast, so I put it away for him).   He worked on that for a little while and Torbie came up, sniffing.  I put the food away and fed Torbie HER food.  Then Biscuit came up, I had to redirect him while she ate her formula.  I also fed Baby Girl. 

It is challenging, I have to stand over the cats, this for you, this for you.  No, you can't eat that.  It is a good thing I am the sighted one. 

Ron is right when he says he couldn't have cats without me. 

Ron went in the kitchen and did some drinking.  I ate one of my hot dogs, Biscuit sniffed at it, and then took my morning pills.  I finally remembered to take my loratadine (non drowsy allergy pill).  It will last a whole day. 

Then I laid down.  Ron made some noise and kept waking me up, but when I finally did get up he was in bed, and the 3 cats were in the room with him.  Biscuit was in his little "hammock" (cat furniture), Torbie was on the top of the cat condo, and Baby Girl was lying with Ron in bed.  I feed them.  I change their box.  I take them to the vet.  And they love on Ron. 

Maybe they know he signed off on using savings to pay for Biscuit. 

Speaking of, I have a plan to medicate him "all at once" tonight so he gets pill and fluid all at once.  I am not sure how it will work but I'll give it a good shot.  My reading led me to discover they suggest using the top of a washer as your location for medication administration.   That, plus the towel, having the meds all laid out on the dryer, might just work.    And who cares if he learns to hate the laundry room? 

I will see. 

I have decided, if I ever have to leave town, I will leave the girls in the house and have Biscuit boarded at the vet.  They can watch him and make sure he is healthy and peeing OK, eating only his food, and interaction with nice people.  He let them pet him when he was sick, I'm sure he'd like it better when he's well. 

It will be worth it.  And I very seldom leave town.