I am getting quite proficient at spending mega-bucks. Earlier this year it was my emergency surgery.
This week it was the root canal. Next week I still have a couple of teeth to
see about, and we will decide if I should do the crown this year or on the insurance
for next year. I’m thinking with all of
these medical/dental expenses I may have enough in co-pays and out of pocket
expenses, it may pay to itemize this year, and after the recent trip to the Veterinarian
for Bandit and Pip de la Moggie, I really wish I could add in their expenses. I could
claim Head of House. I am head of house…when they allow me. Although
Pet Insurance is offered, I don’t carry it; therefore, Bandit and Moggy’s medical is 100% out of pocket. Besides, I heard rescue
Fosters can actually use their expenses as charitable donations. Hummm…I wonder
if it’s too late to take back my intention to keep Moggie?
BTW, Moggie has finally started to respond when I call. Either that or it’s a response to the pop of
the kitten food can. Whatever works. I’m not too proud to copy Pavlov.
I know Pip de la Moggie is a pretty ostentatious name for a
8-week old kitten. But I really like the fact that it means “Spot the Cat.” [Pips are the spots or dots on dice and
dominoes, and Moggie (also spelled Moggy) is the British term for a kitten or
cat of unknown parentage.] I’m already thinking of Christmas and Moggie’s
stocking. I saw an adorable cat stocking on Pinterest I simply must make. It’s
a gold sequin fish body, with a white fur cuff for the fish lips (opening at
the top), and a sturdy gold lame’ looking tail fin. I would make it a pink or purple
sequin body, with the fins a more flowing sheer ribbon. And, I’d
rethink the furry lips, just because I would want to place the name on the
lip/cuff, and maybe bling it up for my little girl.
The only problem, other than the fact that I don’t sew, is Pip de la
Moggie is actually Pip-Moggy.
Yep. She’s a he. Dr.
Gosney just laughed. He thought it was pretty obvious Moggy’s a boy. I swear, when I looked,
it looked like a little girl to me. Granted, there is a lot of fluffy fur,
and my eyes are pretty bad up close, (but I still passed the driver’s test
eye-chart), but dang! Not being able to tell the gender of a cat?! That's kind of embarrasing. Even without looking I should have known Moggy
was a boy because he’s such a lover—he gets
on my chest and purrs, while softly patting my face with his claw-retracted
paws. It's a heart melting action. I'm sure he knows exactly what he's doing when he does it.
So I guess this means the frilly sheer ribbon Christmas stocking is
out.
But his name can stay the same—sort
of—by calling him Pip-Moggy. It still means Spot
the Cat. And it’s more masculine—in fact,
I think it’s kinda gangtsa. I envision heavy gold chains and a large rhinestone
encrusted $ hangin’ ‘round his neck, and a backwards ball cap jauntily tossed
over one of his cute little black ears. I’m not sure, but I think it’s just a coincidence
that this gansta-vision of Moggy usually appears about the same time as he’s drawing
blood whilst climbing up my bear legs with his claws fully extended. Ouch.
And before you suggest it, I’ve already started looking
around for an Ophthalmologist. If I can
be seen before the end of the year, I really may have enough medical to be
worth the effort of itemizing…
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