Let me give you a little back story. As I told you yesterday, this dude off’ed himself and left two very cute little pussycats. Somehow a shelter received the cats and was in contact with the dumbass’s relatives in CA. The shelter lady called Dr. Amber to see if she had any ideas on how to get the cats to the family.
In the mean time, Judy and I have plans to go to CA and, thought some cancellations by the airline, we were having to go through LAX (the very same Los Angelis were the family lives) to get to San Diego. So we were asked to take them with us. All we had to do was carry them on as one of a carry-on and give them to the lady meeting us in CA. Easy enoughNo problem!
So the details are worked out with the CA couple, and the airlines was call to find out their requirements and what they would need. The dimensions of the pet carry was give (they would have to be stored under the seat in front of us.) So we arrive at the said airport, check in at the counter and get the proper tags on the cages. We didn’t know how long or what the procedure would be, so we came a few hours early. We set in the waiting area the whole time. Came time to board, they let us board and said crates would not fit under the seat. After heated discussions and shit, we had to deplane and talk to a supervisor. The only solution was to buy …fucking BUY… a soft side pet carrier… for $50. We reluctantly agreed, but the plane left without us.
More hell raising ensued. So she booked us on the next flight. But the ass kicking part came in swapping those little furry pussies for one crate to the other. All the excitement and jostling didn’t set well with them. Soooo…the one I was transferring decided he/she/it didn’t want to go. Thus a struggle of gigantic proportions ensued with me getting the worst of it. Blood running scratches in my hands, arms and leg from some claws that could be used to pick up blocks of like. But the worst thing was…he/she/it bit me on the hand just behind the thumb. He/she/it was latched on for all it’s worth. However, I finally got in the cage.
I was bleeding pretty severely and walked across the hall to the men’s room to wash off the wounds and to stop the bleeding. Funny how people will stop, move over or turn away with Bleeding Man Walking comes by. Funny actually. The dumb ass supervisor offered me a band aid.
Anyscratch, on the flight my hand was getting more sore as the time passed. By the time I got to the motel, my hand was swollen and I couldn’t bend my thumb. Went to the care center today and was put on antibiotics. Cat bites are very infectious. The pictures below were made at the clinic, and the left hand swelled even more to the point were I couldn’t bend my thumb at all. I think the antibiotics are working because the swelling has stopped and I am not hurting like before. I could grip nothing and trying to hold something as small as a slip of paper was enough to bring a grunt.
(Right hand with scratches)
(Left hand with the bite and the swelling)
That pussy whipped my ass. But we did tour Long Beach. Unfortunately the city is so modern now I did see anything to remind me of the early 60’s. The huge Navy base is even gone. No fun for me.
Riding through town I could see in my mind hundreds of sailors in the uniform of the day walking the streets. All the bars are gone now and, well, I’m just glad I am leaving tomorrow.
More later, peeps!
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