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Welcome to the BOMB.

The Blog Of the "Mother" of Bandit.
Bandit is my Hairless Chinese Crested--he's the "normal" one. I, on the other hand, am unrepentantly "pet-crazy." You know the type--the spinster who lives in the haunted house three blocks over with 72 cats...okay, so I don't have 72 cats, and my house isn't haunted--but my dogs wardrobe is better than mine! Need I say more? :~)
I've never been consistant at journaling, so the timing of my blogs will be sporadic at best. I just hope they are as entertaining to you as they are to me; however, be forewarned: Most of my blogs will be about The BaldOne. In spite of his Don King "do," I think he's just as cute as any of the Brothers B!
Now, if I can just remember not to get him wet--or feed him after midnight...

About Me

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My bags are packed and I'm always ready to seek out an adventure with Bandit and Moggy in tow. Bandit is my thirteen year old Chinese Crested, who I frequently call The Bald One or The BaldOne Boy (like he was one of the Baldwin Brothers). Moggy’s full name is Pip-Moggy. He’s my two year old gansta-resuce kitty. I couldn’t decide between Pip (which are the spots on die and domino tiles) and Moggy (or Moggie when I mistakenly thought he was a she), so I combined the two. Moggy refers to the British term for "cat of unknown parentage .” So in essence, I have an almost bald dog, and I’ve named my cat “Spot.”

Fun Stuff (I'm doing now or have done)

  • Artistic Attempts weekly (alternating between Painting With A Twist, That Art Place, and Peniot's Palette).
  • Bunko with the Belton Bunko Babes monthly.
  • Participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge.
  • Spades and Liverpool Rummy with the Spadetts weekly.
  • The Mighty Texas Dog Walk, Austin (fund raiser for Service Dogs, Inc--they train shelter dogs to be Service Dogs, then give them free of charge to people with disabilities.)

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Medical Expenses

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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