Roger The Kitten

After school Friday I took the kitten in for his first checkup since I got him. I knew he had diarrhea and a sneeze. He's getting over a bad cold, who knows as to the diarrhea at this point, and he has conjunctivitis (pinkeye), it turns out. Now I need to put ointment in his eyes. The cute vet who hugged me when Syd got put down last month (one of four women there, and not the one dealing with little Roger) wanted to tell me how sorry she was about Syd dying last month (she remembered me and him, and so on) and told me that only two weeks later her own cat had dropped dead of exactly the same thing. She is really striking, but is married. Really wanted to connect with me over the subject of the animal losses. So today I'm home with a huge sheaf of students' short stories, featuring characters from stories I liked when I was a teenager myself. I'm watching episodes of Big Train and Jonathan Creek that I've downloaded, instead of marking them quite yet. The kitten is a bit too agressive when I'm trying to eat, and not staying out of my food. At lunch, I was eating perogies with cottage cheese on them (no sour cream) and he kept trying to walk onto the plate. I kept putting him on the floor beside the futon, and he kept climbing back up. Eventually he got the idea and perched on the armrest above my head (I was semi-reclined, watching Big Train) and he just watched. This went well until, as I inserted one of the last perogies into my mouth, a fuzzy black paw with extended claws moved faster than I could see and slapped me in the mouth, pulling the perogy right back out of my mouth again on a set of claws that got snagged on my lip on the way out. I was displeased.