Note - from June 24th 2009, this blog has migrated from Blogger to a self-hosted version. Click here to go straight there.
No apologies for the absence this time - we have had our world turned completely upside down.
You can put me in a detention centre, you can fly me home to Straya (accompanied by FOUR Frog policemen all the way to Bangkok), you can call me names and tell me you don't like my haircut. None of the above will make my nose go all sniffly and tears form in my eyes.
I'm not saying I'm a hard man, mind.
But I'm getting off the point.
My black cat - the Mighty Biggie (otherwise known as Niggie, Nigg-nigg, Nigness-Wigness, Wiggie, Niggie-Piggie and The Black Prince) - is going blind.
He came downstairs over a week ago - to grace us with his Bigness, or so I thought; sometimes he takes a break from his hectic goal-driven sleep schedule to try and raise the spirits of his subjects.
Then I noticed that one of his eyes was dilated to infinity, and fixed. The lens was luxated, and by the next day the lens was cloudy.
Strike One.
Day after day of hourly eyedrops (mis-prescribed, if you ask me - pilocarpine is apparently useless for cats and might actually aggravate the issue, and Xalatan likewise... luckily we found that out ourselves and stopped the pilo and Xalatan and continued with the Fradexam, Timolol and oral Diamox).
Now it seems that his left eye is likewise going.
Strike Two...
You know you've got it bad when you try to explain in bad French (actually, there is no such thing as good French - the language is badly designed [by committee, no less] and needs a market-driven overhaul)... as I was saying, when you try to explain to the baker what is going on, and you find you have to stop for fear of bursting into tears.
Yes, I know... what a poof.
Next stop is the feline ophthamologist - in the hope that the eyes are still capable of vision (i.e., there has not been damage to the retinae or the optic disc); hopefully that's the case and Nigg will have the luxated lenses removed.
And there you have it - proof that there is no God. If there was, Dick "Chicanery" Cheney and his parasitic ilk would all die gruesome deaths from a variant of Ebola that ate you to bits over 20 years with vast amounts of unbearable pain, oozing sores and pus and vomiting.
Instead, the most noble beast - His Very Nigness - will have to go without sight until the advent of visual prostheses. It is just not fair.
That said, I am coming to grips with the situation (as is Niggie - he is massively disoriented at the moment, but getting better each day: braver than I would be), and other things being equal, I plan to resume normal market-based ranting next week.
