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July 11, 1992 - The day we got married. Plus, Vet day for the cat!

Posted 07-11-2008 at 10:34 PM by ws6transam
Today we celebrate our sixteenth year of marriage. Laura and I had our anniversary by celebrating in different parts of the city: I got home from work with just enough time to give her a quick peck on the cheek as she ran out to head off to her job. The kids, as it often seems, were oblivious to our mutual affections because they were off squabbling amongst themselves.
I got Laura a card later in the day, and brought the three kids along so that they could help me pick one out. The unanimous favorite was one of those cartoony Hallmark cards that was just smoochy enough to endear, but not too cutsey, either. My dad always buys the goofiest cards for my mom, and Laura doesn't want me to follow in that path too often. Once and a while I hand-make a card, but not in quite a while. I'll give it to her on Saturday when we will get the time to actually celebrate and observe our marriage. Certainly today wasn't nearly as exciting as that wonderful day when we committed to one another in front of God and our families, sixteen years ago...The best wedding I've ever been to, I must say. I still love her more today in 2008, than probably I did when we first married one another.
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This anniversary day was full of crying and angst among the kids as I spent the day making them do the dreaded CHORES, like one basket of laundry folding apiece, cleanup after dinner, and even a mopping of the kitchen floor. Bad, slave-driver dad that I am, I also pointed out the dirty kitty litter box, and made them clean that too. So I am tired out. It is, I SWEAR, harder to makde kids do housework than it is to do it yourself. However you short-change them the chance to build their life skills if you do everything for them.
"What do you mean, I have to clean up the kitchen!??" blurts number one son. "You made the mess!"
"Yeah, well you ATE the mess! We're all on the burk family team here and right now you need to do your part and clean up."

Actually, there wasn't hardly any mess tonight as I cooked dinner on an open camp fire in the back yard. One pot, and that went into the fridge. Man, I hate listening to whine. They love to pour it into my ear. I'd rather have it in a glass, please....
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Whatever.
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I also had to take the cat to the vet for his shots. Nickolas is a purebred Siberian forest cat, and he's a big one: nearly sixteen pounds, and he's not fat. Nikki is super-sweet, inquisitive, and is curious about strangers. He's sort of vocal, but he's usually quiet. EXCEPT when he goes to the vet. His vet must think I'm joking when I say that Nikki hasn't ever bitten or scratched anyone before. That's because when Nikki gets to the vet's office, he has a good memory and he instantly turns into a venomous, spitting, hissing machine who can growl and yowl like a cornered bobcat. We even had him on tranquilizers but it didn't help! the vet didn't want to give him his rabies and distemper shots in front of me for some reason, so they took him from me and into the back room. Nickolas has been plastered against me, and when she grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and left the room, all hell broke loose. Screaming, screeching, animated voices, clunking, and more. A few minutes later, the vet comes in and she's covered in cat fur!
'Ah, Mr. Burk. We got Nickolas the rabies shot, but he's having none of that when it comes to the distemper shot. He's in a box at the moment, and we'd like to give him some anesthetic to knock him out for the other shot."
By now I am thinking that I want my cat back. However I give them permission, and think that perhaps this is the last time Nikki goes to the vet....
>Hisssss! Screeeech! Scrawwwll Grrrr! Screeech!< >bang! bang! clunk! Clunk! bang! < >Screech!<
A few minutes later, the vet comes back in with Nikki in his cat carrier. Nikki has his ears folded back, and he's scrunched into the rearmost part of the cage.
"Well, our technician was able to get him the last shot without the anesthetic so he's okay."

I respond: "How about next time you try a house call?"

She responds, her hair touseled, and cat fur all over her smock. "I think next time that might be a good idea."

Did I mention that my nearly sixteen pound cat hates veteranary hospitals? It took three people just to give him two innoculations. The big question I now have is, does he hate the facility, or does he really remember the staff? I guess we'll find out next time....
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JakeRobb's Avatar
Happy anniversary!
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Posted 07-11-2008 at 10:55 PM by JakeRobb JakeRobb is offline
 

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