Gales of Helpless Laughter

NOT NICE TO MAKE FUN of the chemically impaired, but…

So Jane’s sutures were looking red and swollen, and Toni was concerned, so she took Jane into work today. The doctor (picture Jon’s vet from Garfield, if it helps), gave Jane one anti-inflammatory in the clinic and gave Toni a somewhat stronger painkiller for in case Jane was feeling pain. (Which would be a LOT of pain, because cats either suffer in silence or yowl their heads off — but there’s no in-between. Jane’s probably one of the in-silence type, although she’d probably guilt trip you all the while.)

And Toni goes, “Damned if my kittie’s gonna be in pain,” so she gave Jane the twice-daily dose (which is, like, a quarter of this little mouse pill), figuring (this was around Noon), if it was still bad come evening, she’d give her another quarter and still not exceed the recommended safe 24-hour dose.

At around 2-ish, we’re sitting in the living room watching a home show on HGTV-HD. I hear an unfamiliar noise coming from the kitchen.

“What are you up to in there?” I called in my very best Mommy voice.

No answer. Noise keeps up. I give a long-suffering sigh. Toni, whose hearing isn’t the best, asks me whassup. I say, “Somebody’s doing something they’re probably not supposed to be doing, but I can’t tell from the sound what or who it is.”

I get up and looked around the corner. And there’s Jane.

We have this think called a Drinkwell. It’s a recirculating water dish with a 2-liter-ish reservoir and a little pump that runs water up from the basin, through a filter, and down out a spout, which gives the cats the effect of drinking from a water fountain. They love it. They’ve also discovered that they can knock the lid off the recirculator and drink straight from the spring. Like that makes any difference, although more of them can gather around the watering hole at one time with the lid off. We’re forever finding it lying under water in the basin, and I keep wondering if there’s some way to attach it so they can’t knock it off.

But there was Jane…

She was standing under the butcher block tea cart, where the Drinkwell resides, her forepaws IN the basin, digging furiously at the water. Digging obsessively at the water. Trying her very best to figure out why the water kept flowing back into the hole she was digging in the stuff. Puddled around her back feet and the legs of the butcher block was this growing lake of water. At first, I thought she was after a piece of sliced black olive that had fallen off a pizza last night and — doubtless — one of the cats had found it and carried it away and dumped it in the water bowl.

Hell, I don’t know. It’s what they do.

So I fished it out and threw it down the InSinkErAtor. But that wasn’t it.

Jane kept standing there, scooping furiously away at the water with all the intensity of Woody Allen with a bad case of OCD. The other cats are standing around, jaws metaphorically agape, watching her do this.

And it dawned on me.

And it struck me funny.

And I started laughing like the laughing gas incident in Mary Poppins (the book). And couldn’t stop. I did, however, manage to get out, “Your cat is stoned.”

And I’m laughing my ass off, tears running, snot coming out of my nose, unable to stop or even stand up. I believe the phrase is, kicked over my giggle box.

We finally figured out she wasn’t going to stop, even after all the water in the Drinkwell — basin and reservoir both — was on the kitchen floor, so we took the thing up and set up a bowl of plain old static water in the bathtub. I moved to put the reservoir from the Drinkwell in there with it, so’s to make it easier to refill, until I realized: there’s a faucet right there. Duh!

A few minutes later, Toni got a look at Jane’s eyes and mentioned them to me: Fixed and dilated.

Jane left the kitchen and went out in the living room and stared at the shelves of vinyl record albums for a few minutes. Then she staggered across the living room and shoulder-checked the coffee table. She’s been going on in that vein for the last couple of hours.

I don’t hold with people who get their animals stoned on purpose — and, really, this incident with Jane is a perfect illustration of why. Although she took — is taking — her state with a certain amount of equanimity, it still must be a bit of terrifying not knowing what’s going on.

And the whole idea IS to spare her some pain.

But… dayum! I don’t care WHO y’are — that-there’s FUNNY!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *