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12/30/2002 Entry: "Proof I'm not a farm boy"

I grew up near the ocean. I spent summers on the beach, hunting rock crabs with Jason Butman. Killing jellyfish with David Mahonen. Fishing for mackrel. Filling bait bags for Buzzy Kinney. I know nothing about cows, or chickens, or stuff like that. Here' the proof.

Little Nell Lollipop (our kitty) was wandering around the house tonight, her back all crooked. She was crawling on the floor, belly down, hind quarters up. It looked like she had broken her back. She wouldn't put her back legs down. If you pressed by her tail, she would swat at you. So we called the vet. He called us back. "How old is she?" he asked. About 6 months we said. "Is she in pain?" Didn't appear to be. "Is she vocalizing?" Only when you press on her back. "Has she been spayed?"

Light bulb!

You know how stupid I felt! I thought our cat had broken her back. No, instead she wanted to be on her back! We've always had our cats spayed. I don't think I've ever seen a cat in heat before. I saw a dog in heat once. In fact, I asked the vet if there'd be blood. "No, not with cats" he said.

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