REMINDER: Today is the day Becke Davis’s review of LOVES ME, LOVES ME KNOT is going up on Romance B(u)y the Book.  I hope you’ll drop by to check it out & maybe even chat with me a bit more about Jenna & Gage’s story.

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Remember that whole spaz-out from last week where I announced that I was “Going Crazy, Back in 10 Minutes”?  Well, things have settled down moderately since then (knock on wood), but I know I owe y’all an explanation.  Those of you who follow me on Twitter, Facebook, & the like are already well aware of the cause of the insanity—or at least part of it—but allow me to elaborate on the latest uproar to hit the Betts household.

It was Wednesday.  A perfectly normal, average Wednesday except for the fact that I had an appointment in town.  Nothing major, nothing terribly important, but it meant getting up a bit early, getting dressed, leaving the house…  Traumatic, I know, but not life-threatening. *vbg*

And I’m zipping down Interstate 80 at about 65mph, minding my own business, not paying attention to much of anything.  But on the side of the road, I noticed a bit of something black…litter? a piece of blown tire, maybe?  Whatever.  Just as I got on top of it, though, I realized it had eyes…& ears…& had moved.  It was a teeny tiny kitten, just sitting there about six inches from the white line—& certain death!

OMG!!!  Slam on brakes, skid to a stop on the side of the road, jump out, run my ass off trying to get all the way back there.  And let me tell you, I’m not a runner; I was going as fast as I could, pounding & pounding the pavement, but it felt like I was on a treadmill, not moving forward at all—nightmare!  Finally, though, I reached that little bundle of fur & scooped it up, away from danger.  Trucks were barreling past, not giving a fig about what was going on…although I will say that if you ever want to get giant tractor trailers to move into the other lane, try running like a madwoman straight up the white line at the side of the highway; they may not move over for an abandoned kitten, but they do for a human being.

I think it took about two hours for my heart to stop pounding in my chest.  I kept going from panic that the poor thing was on the interstate at all (& how the hell did it get there?!?) to being hugely relieved I’d gotten to it in time (you have no idea how afraid I was that it would get hit even as I was running full-out to save it—aack!) to why-do-these-things-keep-happening-to-me? & what-the-heck-am-I-supposed-to-do-with-it-now?

I knew right away that the little baby was sick.  As usual with kittens who aren’t taken care of properly when they’re young, her eyes were goopy & practically sealed shut, & she kept sneezing green gook all over me.  I immediately suspected an upper respiratory infection & conjunctivitis.  Even though I did have an appointment to get to, I went straight to the vet’s office (thankfully in the same town I was headed for, anyway), but it was one of their “evening hours” days & they were closed until 5pm.  Gack!  I knew she needed medical attention & I also knew I couldn’t take her home until she’d been checked 0ut because he would surely make everyone else in the house—of the feline persuasion, anyway —sick.

Because I didn’t know what else to do, I took her with me to my appointment.  Just held her & she stayed sound asleep in my arms the entire time.  Afterward, I stopped at another vet clinic in town; I’d never been there before, but I was hopeful, & I must say the doctor was wonderful.  They had to fit me in between regular patients &, yes, I paid through the nose LOL, but it was totally worth it.  She looked the kitten over, agreed that she had an upper respiratory infection & conjunctivitis (can I call it or what? *g*), & loaded me up with medications.  Ointment for the eyes three times a day, liquid antibiotic twice a day, a shot & dose of the antibiotics right there in the office, & because she was pretty badly dehydrated, a squeeze of I.V. fluids under the skin.  Man, alive, the poor kitty was unhappy about all of that.  Here she thought she’d been rescued by an angel of mercy (that would be me ) & instead I took her somewhere to be poked, prodded, & otherwise abused.  She screamed every time they took her temperature or stabbed her with a needle, but ironically, hasn’t made a peep since.  I think maybe her throat is sore from being so sick because she’ll open her mouth & mime crying, but no sound comes out.  Thankfully, I give her absolutely nothing to cry about.

And I am proud to report that now, one week later, Little Miss Interstate is doing MUCH better.  She’s put on weight, her cold has completely cleared up, & she’s just as happy as can be with all the fun toys I’ve supplies.  She’s still quarantined in my bedroom, which the other cats don’t quite understand & are not pleased about, but otherwise she’s just a happy, healthy, non-flattened-like-a-pancake kitten.

Would you like to meet her?

Wait, let me get her sash.  Okay, cue the music…

Here she is,

Little Miss Interstate…