Who Is Mistral Dawn?

Mistral Dawn is a thirty-something gal who has lived on both coasts of the US but somehow never in the middle. She currently resides in the Southeast US with her kitty cats (please spay or neuter! :-)) where she works as a hospital drudge and attends graduate school. Taken By The Huntsman is her first effort at writing fiction and if it is well received she has ideas for several more novels and short-stories in this series. Please feel free to visit her on FaceBook or drop her a line at mistralkdawn@gmail.com

Tuesday, December 24, 2019

The Inmates Are Running The Asylum...




Hey Everyone!! :-)

Every now and again, I like to post something that's a little nonsensical to lighten up the mood around here. Since it's the holiday season, not to mention Christmas Eve, I thought this would be a good time for such a post. This is something that happened a couple of months ago, I posted it on Facebook at the time, but I thought I'd share it here too. Enjoy! :-)

My oldest kitty, Squeaky, has been feeling a little under the weather. He's about 15-years-old, so I was concerned and took him to the vet on Monday. My youngest kitty, The Muffin, saw me pick Squeaky up and put him in the carrier and thought he'd be next, so he took off and hid.
Squeaky came home with me the same day -- he just had some blood pulled to be tested, no overnight stay -- but Muffin was still freaked out. Yesterday, he quasi-accepted Squeaky back, but I was absolutely persona non grata. He wasn't talking to me, he wasn't looking at me, if I came into a room he was in, he hissed and ran out. He spooked around my apartment like he'd never seen it before -- he has lived here for years -- and acted like he expected a carrier to appear and snatch him up at any moment.
Today, I'm back in good graces, but the other kitties are completely unacceptable. Muffin will talk to me and ask for pets, but if he sees the other kitties he gowls and hisses. Now, my second oldest cat, the Sin cat, doesn't like anyone anyway, so she just acts like the queen, diva bitch that she is and hisses back and smacks him. My second youngest cat, the Small, is generally neurotic. He hisses and growls back, but then flips out and runs around like his tail is on fire until he comes and hides between me and my chair. Because apparently everything is okay as long as you're being crushed by mom.

Now, Squeaky, he's a chill little dude. This is his house, and he is lord and master of all he surveys. So, when Muffin hisses and growls at him, Squeaky just looks at Muffin like he has lost his mind and goes on about his Squeaky business. Because that's how Squeaky cats roll. There's no harshing a Squeaky chill.

But they've all managed to make it to the food and water bowls and to the litter pans, so I guess they'll work it out for themselves eventually. *sigh* Who's crazier, the nuts or the nut who loves them? 🙄




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