If you’re a facebook friend, you know the tragic tale of sick baby kitty all ready. If you’re not….

Baby kitty, also known as Burleigh (after my grandma), Bee, Burls and numerous other nicknames, started having seizures yesterday. Burleigh was brought into the house by my uncle right around my birthday, and as soon as I saw her fluffy little self, I was silly for her. We called the vet, who suggested trying caro syrup (in case it was low blood sugar). That didn’t work. We tried giving her a bath, in case it was some toxin making her sick. That didn’t work. Auntie spent all night with her and we took her to the vet this morning. She’s got a neurological problem, possibly kitty leukimia or lesions on one side of her brain. All we can do is drug her full of phenobarbitol and steriods and hope for the best.

While we were waiting in the vet’s office we were chatting with a lovely lady about her newborn daughter and kids in general. Out of fricken nowhere this douchebag chimes in with “That’s nothing, my son tried to make out with my girlfriend, and he’s only 8”.

If that wasn’t weird enough, he goes on this homophobic rant about how glad he was that his child tried to mack on his girl because it means that his “only son ain’t gay,he’s gonna carry on the family name”. As happens when confronted with bigots, I got mad and my hands started to shake. Not helpful when trying to keep a wee baby kitty with seizures calm. Douchebag keeps going on and on about how having a gay son would be the worst thing in the world. Wonder, bless her, pipes up with “I think there are worse things in the world than having a gay kid, like having something actually bad happen”. Then douchebag goes on about his gay ex wife. Still trying to control my anger and calm a sick kitty, I said (as snakily as possible) “I can’t imagine what might have turned her gay””. The conversation just got worse from there, including Douchebag overestimating the weight of his pitbull and Wonder wondering if that’s the only thing he overestimates.

I don’t care what Doouchebag thinks, though I feel more than a bit sorry for his kid. I don’t want to be slapped in the face with his hatred and ignorance. I don’t wan’t anyone to be slapped in the face with hate and ignorance. But I really don’t want to have to get my fist shaking, kyriarchy smashing rage up when I am worried that my tiny ball of fluffy love is at death’s door.

(Baby kitty, after a marathon, drug induced 6 hour nap, seems to be doing a little better. She peed!!!!! And then ran off to play with her brothers. She’s still wobbly legged and can’t jump up on stuff too well. But maybe she’ll be okay).