Part of being Canadian means dying a little inside when the American hockey team wins against Team Canada. UGH. They were totally prepared to play against our goalie, Brodeur. Dude's all aggressive in the net and sets up plays. He's like a defense man and goalie in one. But they used that against him. They were on it. And their goalie Miller was incredible. We out shot them twice over and dude let in practically nothing. Frig frag frack fuck.
My Facebook news feed was flowing with devastated moans and wails of disappointment and soul crushing utterances of "Ah, FUCK!" As I watched that admittedly phenomenal open net goal, I heard or rather felt hearts break across the country. But I choose to view this positively. It means an extra game, which means more time on the ice together to improve and prepare for Russia. It ain't over yet.
Moving on, moving on.
I had to do a glucose curve for Smokey. Yeah. I had to draw blood from my cat hourly and record his glucometer results. So one can imagine what kind of day I had yesterday. Understandably, Smokey does not care for blood tests. He's not a very combative guy, but he does like to complain. Many cats howl, hiss and claw. Smokey grumbles.
Me: Come on Smokey, time for your glucose test!
(I pick Smokey up)
(I prick Smokey's ear)
Smokey: Mggrrrghgh! Rrraghhh!
The joys of pet ownership. The Dude and I have been talking about getting another cat. Smokey seems lonely to us, or bored. He strolls around the apartment having meowing fits. He no longer looks for Jerry, but we think he must be missing having a friend to do cat stuff with. So we're considering it. It's a very hard decision. I don't want to make Smokey's final years unhappy for him with the wrong new cat. But I don't want him to grow more and more distressed from boredom or loneliness.
It really is amazing the hole Jerry left in this apartment. I miss the little guy.