Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Race for Hannah




This weekend, Amy and I are running in the Komen Race for the Cure. It's only a 5K, but we're talking about it as if it were a marathon. It's not really about the run itself. Were doing it in honor of, among others, our cat Hannah. She recently underwent surgery to remove a host of tumors spanning her breast area. We haven't gotten the results back, but the vet is fairly certain the tumors are malignant. The surgery was quite extensive, and Hannah was a sad sight in her post-operative state. Consequently, in the past week she has won some newfound affection from me. 

Always the queen of her domain, Hannah hates nothing more than being vulnerable. Hannah the heliophile has spent much of the last week lying in the dark. Hannah of the strident meow actually lost her ability to speak for 48 hours (the best sleep I've had in a year). Hannah of the infamous ennui actually appeared, for the first time, unsure of herself. Chester, of course, took advantage of this moment of vulnerability to prance around Hannah and sniff her butt, something that would've gotten his nose taken off in the past.

Hannah had a plastic cone put around her neck so she couldn't lick her wound or pull at the staples. When she first got home from surgery she wandered around the house bumping into everything -- without whiskers, you see, cats are nearly blind. She quickly adapted to the cone, though, and we soon realized she was exaggerating its effects in order to evoke sympathy. For a while, for example, she pretended like she couldn't reach her food. She kept bumping the cone into her bowl, spilling her food on the floor, and then looking up at us with those pathetic eyes. So we'd take the cone off -- and she'd promptly lick her wound. Later, when she thought no one was looking, she would eat just fine with her cone on. Next, she took to ramming her cone against the side of her cat bed until we'd pick her up, place her on the bed, and pet her. Then she'd miraculously jump the three feet onto our bed.

All these shenanigans give us hope that Hannah will be back in full force in no time. I wasn't really worried, though. She'll live forever, out of shear will, just to spite us all.

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