As you know, Dusty's chicky breast fixation has caused me a great deal of pain. Well, what goes around comes around or in this case comes down upon.

Quick background: My daughter fell and split her forehead open at school yesterday. I took her to the emergency to get stitched up but the doctor wanted a plastic surgeon to do it because it was on her face. The plastic surgeon wanted her to be sedated so that she wouldn't squirm and scream while he was sewing her up. The gave her some morphine to take the edge off. She was all goobed up, he stitched her up, she was fine they gave her some grape juice and we went home. I was told not to let her lay down because it could cause swelling.

When we got home I made her a little nest on the couch with all of the couch pillows so she could sleep sitting up, more specifically Dusty's chenille "nesting" couch pillows. Seeing this Dust jumped up on the couch to see if his pillows were being treated properly. He found they were and decided to lay down on one of them next to my daughter. She was happy her buddy was making sure she was okay and they both fell asleep. Several hours passed and Dusty had moved down off the pillows and settled down on the couch a few feet away from her. This would prove to be his biggest mistake.

I was sitting in the recliner watching TV when all of a sudden I heard my daughter give out a little moan. The doc told me her tummy may not feel so hot because of the morphine and antibiotics they gave her. I looked over at her and her eyes were open. I asked her if she was okay and she turned to look at me. Just as she turned her head I saw her body heave and she vomited. More specifically she projectile vomited. Guess where it landed? Yep. All over one snoozing bastard cat! A veritable fountain of grape juice and god knows what rained down on the Dust! He took off like a bat out of hell. I cleaned up my daughter and she insisted I go find Dusty, she was crying and felt bad that she puked on him (I sure didn't). I found Dusty in the laundry room sitting next to his litterbox with the dog trying to lick him, he looked like he was in shock. He had chunks of stuff and purple slime all over him. He was a mess! I had to give him a bath, his first and most definitely his last. (That's a whole other story)

He is all clean and fluffed now but every time I feel pain, even just a tiny pain, in my chicky bone indented kneecap I have a vision of a puke covered Dust and I smile. Karma. It's a beautiful thing ain't it?

Copyright © Tambra Jo Gwozdz
March 16, 2001