Blergh. Hec has taken Emmett outside for comfort and private conference. I feel so bad for sad hurty Emmett, and bad for guilty Hec, and bad for my disappointed mom, and extra-bad because all I could do to make anything better was give my mom an extra hug when saying goodbye to her. Hec's all on edge and doesn't want to be talked at or hovered over, and Emmett's in pain and miserable and has lately been wobbling back and forth between being fond of me and regarding me as an interloper in his life, so now that the mom-hugging is done, all I can do is make myself invisible. Bleargh.

On the upside, I did a good deed for a small helpless mammal today: somebody abandoned a kitten in a box on the front steps of my church, and I warmed it and cuddled and coddled it and then my mom and I drove all over Berkeley looking for a veterinary hospital to drop it off to. Poor wee beastie, pretty little calico, riddled with fleas and underfed but clearly sociable and people-friendly and delighted to be held and cosseted. Also, for its tiny size, a mighty purrbucket.

I'm torn between being glad that the abandoner at least had the sense to leave the kitten at the front door of a building full of charitable kindly folks, and profoundly annoyed that the abandoner just imposed on everyone else's goodwill like that. You take in a baby mammal and then find that for whatever reason you can't keep it, the answer is not to stuff it in a box, find a friendly-looking doorway and hope for the best. Call a shelter, call a vet, take some fucking responsibility!

Grrr. Fucking humans. ::kicks human race, except Buffistas::

worked one season on a dig, and then went off to do non-academic things.

I never even got to do that, even during school. Still, I think every now and then of going back for a master's in museum curatorship. I could still get to play with bones!

But I saw the ep early in my DVI watching.

I think it predated me.

Oh! Guess who, a couple days ago, was feeling like crap, but still heading out to exercise, and had some lunch, got up, got dizzy, fainted, and dragged themselves to bed and made a few phone calls before falling asleep?

Exactly.

My father.

Let's just say, the phrase "I'm so related to you" was used by me more than once in that conversation. To his credit, he's actually been resting for the few days it's been since the syncope, but he's..Christ..over 70???? Yikes.

Damn, ita, that's scary. I hope it wasn't anything serious.

A side effect of my blaséness about my fainting is that I wasn't even tweaked about it until I did the math and remembered his age. Of course, I'm still mistrusting my subtraction skills.

Doctors, needless to say, have no idea why. He got a 24 hour heart monitor. I never got one of those!

Prolly because you're not over 70.

Possible new favorite show. I Want That on HGTV.

Prolly because you're not over 70.

I could be over 70! In 25 years, but still.

JZ--it's possible that the abandoner was a rescuer who didn't know where else to put the kitten. Just not as thorough or sensible as you were.

My dad has had a few fainting spells last summer. It was when he was at church, sitting with the rest of the choir while wearing his heavy choir robes up in the church balcony, where it can get a bit warm. Now he wears regular clothes while in the choir.

He's also in his early '70s....

I think it predated me.

Hope your dad is okay also.

I am suddenly grumpy and feel I should back away from the internets. Or, at the least, not respond personally to things that aren't personal. At least not personally directed at me.