blood, pus and bad neighbours

imageWell it was a good thing I’d wrung out the snotrag and sluiced the spitoon, because I needed them both when at around 1am, an abscess on the visiting dog’s neck burst. She didn’t seem right all day, I’d been keeping a careful eye on her and had decided to take her to the vet this morning anyway. She’s not my dog and in a week she’s flying to New Zealand; the Antipodes are more stringent than most about the whole process, the little dog was already delayed for two months (which is why she’s with me) and so I didn’t want to take any chances. I woke when she came through from the lounge and jumped on to my bed. Nothing unusual there, but she sat bolt upright, then leaned against me, still sitting. I ran my hand over her, felt moisture and tried to puzzle that out, then it got sticky. It was, of course, a defuckinglightful mix of blood and pus. I was relieved, because that meant it wasn’t a puff adder bite. But very confused at how the mass of swollen tissue had managed to escape my attention. Anyway, I sat and drained an astonishing amount of fluid from it, intermittently cleaning up and calming the poor little dog. That particular pink is so utterly vile, thank fuck it was all fresh, so there was no real smell. I dunno how long we sat on that towel covered couch for, fear has a way of turning time even more elastic than usual. Anyway, the sun rose (as it does) and things looked brighter (as they do) and I took her to the vet first thing, indulging in a little light weeping while I waited for them to open. It turns out that she must’ve been bitten by a cat yesterday. There were two incisor marks on her neck (don’t worry, I’m one step ahead of you there, I’m on the look out for a vampire cat) and apparently cat bite abscesses come up incredibly fast, owing to foul bacteria in their mouths. A seven day course of antibiotics will end the day before she flies (and on the seventh day she dosed again). She’s back to her usual lively, growly self so there’s just the meds and draining to do before she goes. I kept the owner in New Zealand updated along the way, sent the carriers a photo of the wound so they know whether they’ll need a vet’s letter about it and oh, while I’m alienating squeamish followers left, right and centre anyway, I also asked the vet to squeeze her (erm, the dog’s, that is) anal glands, because eh nevermind actually.


I fell asleep at some point during that paragraph and had some pretty odd dreams. Last thing I remember were three talking honey badgers the size of hyaena, carrying towels and jeering in English. And now I’m going to vent pure trivia.

wpid-toy-576500_640.pngIt’s twilight zone time again here anyway, in that my neighbour’s boyfriend is here for a few weeks. He arrived a few months ago, breaking her, cough, dry spell of something formidable like 18yrs. He was fun, made a huge effort with everyone, they kept it all a secret that surprised nobody when it came out. They did that new love thing, where you hide in a rose tinted bubble of bliss for two and since they live a short flight apart, the seclusion when they did see each other made perfect sense. Months went by and it became increasingly obvious that they were interacting with everyone else except me. Initially, I was really distressed by it, mostly because I didn’t understand wtf was going on. I did what people like you and I do best in such situations – I ruminated. I chewed that damn cud flavoured with all my insecurity until I thought I had the answer, and then I shrugged on the Elusive Cloak of Calm and tackled her in the kind of way that the most granola of counsellors call ‘a carefrontation’. Brb got to vomit on a counsellor quick. The answers I’d got before, when asking why I was apparently persona non grata, were all along the lines of nonsense what are you talking about nooo he just doesn’t want to see people nooo he’s got a cold he’s got allergies he doesn’t want to end up as gossip you know what this village is like no no no its not you. I felt a bit playground about pushing it further, but ever the proverbial bull in its metaphorical china shop, I did anyway. I asked her whether it was because shortly after the two of them had hooked up, which was shortly after she had come out of rehab for alcohol and weed, he’d talked her into ‘just one small joint’. Now, last year was a hectic one for her, she has a v cool daughter who is solidly supportive etc, but who doesn’t drive. Basically the daughter and I did all of the support stuff her her through (and may I remind you that this is within one year) two bouts of malaria, eight bouts of bronchitis, two heart failures and then rehab. So I growled about the joint – her using had been damaging her physically for 42 years and she almost died more than once last year. I asked her whether me growling at her about the joint was the reason that her man had suddenly ceased even looking in my direction. She said yes and gave a long and intricate explanation. A few weeks later, her daughter told me that it was apparently due to my sexuality – he had an ex who had a lesbian friend who made moves on her and was worried about a repeat.


Sidenote: It’s bitchy but true to say that my neighbour has the same effect on my libido as orange juice has on a volcano. None. Ironically, she put the moves on me drunkenly some years ago. Ugh.

I shrug and shrug and shrug, but me being me, part of me still feels small, cold and alone about it. I’m adjusting though, I can feel it; the growling about the joint explanation made some warped sense to me, but being ostracised for being queer? I’ve been living on planet queer openly for a couple of decades now, I can handle that shit without wilting. Not cool that my neighbour is allowing it to continue, but she’s an insecure people pleaser and the poor thing is probably shitting herself in every direction anyway. I’m very supportive of her relationship when we speak; everybody should grab every chance of happiness they find. My friendship with her is a bit odd anyway, she was my mother’s friend, never mine and we sort of inherited each other after my mother’s death. She used to offer me support, I’d accept in a grateful and grieving heap and about eight times out of ten, she’d let me down. She couldn’t even find the grace to fake any sympathy on mother’s day – I’d been walking and weeping on the beach, bumped into her and her man on the way back, said hi, said that mother’s day was kicking my ass and she barely went mhm. Couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.

This is one of those purge sessions that end with you feeling like, well that’s just a bunch of insignificant bollocks, wtf did I ever get worked up about it for? I’m here, I’m queer, idgaf whether or not he gets used to it. Thanks lots for listening to me whine.



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battlescarred, bright, bewildered, bent, blue & bipolar

30 thoughts on “blood, pus and bad neighbours”

  1. A burst abscess was what killed Abby. Had they fitted her in five days earlier and treated her she would still be alive. My opinion on vets has gone into the same toilet as my opinion on people doctors.

    I’m glad the dog that isn’t your dog is gonna be okay.

    And stop being such a flirt y vixen already with your lipstick and mascara and crop tops and hot pants…
    People are really dumb sometimes. Like my neighbors who won’t let their kids play with mine because I had a female friend stay for several months last year thus them jumping the conclusion I am gay and unfit for their kids to be around my kid or me.
    I have zero problem with anyone’s sexuality, but I’ve been of the mind that kids with parents that stupid probably aren’t going to add much to my kid’;s life anyway, so good riddance. Feel sorry for the kids though cos they really like each other.

    Liked by 6 people

    1. Ja fuckit…. Vets…. They can be criminally asshole-ish too. Poor Ab, I really hate that it happened – for her primarily, and for you too. I still hold so much grief for the dog I lost earlier this year, I really do feel your pain mate. Yet more evidence that life is nowhere near fair, ever.

      Love your attitude to the whole homophobia thing, you’re the perfect ally for any queer.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. I used to be a dressing room attendant for a drag queen, was the best time of my life. That group made me feel more accepted and loved than my own family. Plus it was always good for a laugh when someone didn’t believe I was a real girl and copped a feel under my skirt. EWWWWW girl cooties. ;)

        Liked by 1 person

  2. You flirty vixen you (morgue’s comment cracked me up :)).
    I must say though that I am kind of with her with this though: I get that her being a link to your mum is important, but isn’t it all a great excuse to get this woman who has clearly taken a lot from you and given quite little in return out of your life?
    It’s very shit as a reason, of course it will always hurt, however, just today I was thinking that yes, the fact that one of my oldest friends acts as a gay hater (whether he believes it or not) is reason enough for me not to ask him to visit. It makes people suddenly appear so puny.
    Honestly, good riddance.
    At least until boyfriend is on the scene, then she’ll be looking for you herself, I’ll bet you anything,

    Liked by 5 people

    1. Well, it’s not her that bugs me anymore tbh, she is what she is. The homophobia bugs me. And because she’s my neighbour, in a very small village, space and letting the connection fade is where I’m aiming, anything more proactive would just be uncomfortable and impractical. Omg I sound so utterly banal.

      Liked by 3 people

    1. You were one of my first friends here, it’s great to see you again! I hope you’re writing again too, I’m on my way over to your blog to find out. I hope your absence has been because life is good?

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes, it’s been good for the most part. Really need to start writing again. Somehow I think this monster disease convinced me that if I wrote again I’d be admitting that I wasn’t well again. Very strange but I’m ready to say fuck it because I miss my blog and writing it!

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Well I miss your writing dammit. And I’m glad to hear things have been good. And if I may suggest something, it might be a good idea to limit the amount of reading you do, of blogs about bipolar. You gotta stay focused on the good stuff mate. But! Welcome back, it really is good to see you.

          Liked by 1 person

  3. Blah I’d gladly read your blog purges even while being disembowelled by a mountain lion; in fact I hear it becomes, after the initial rampant agony, a rather floaty mellow feeling. Isn’t it great to have the wizard empathy that can understand why someone is mistreating you, forgive them for it, probe and apologize for their motives far more sensitively than they can, AND still feel hurt, rejected, and shitty? What’s not to love?

    Liked by 3 people

  4. Holy sheep dip!

    Poor little P. Glad she will be okay. The abscess story does put me in mind of my first long awaited 4 day weekend when I was a single parent. It started with the discovery of a massive abscess on my cat’s neck. She was a real scrapper and cats heal very quickly after a serious scratch but an infection can fester under the skin. When I found her she was feverish and had scratched all the fur off the spot. Quick trip to the vet and a regime of cleaning the wound every few hours and apply a cream, not to mention the joy of tricking her into swallowing antibiotics. The next morning I woke up with what turned out to be my first round of TMJ. So I spent my first long weekend on the couch in agonizing pain with a cat on my chest, regularly tending to her wound!

    As for neighbour lady and her insecure bf. It does suck that people can be so rude in their insecurity. Must be some serious performance anxiety on his part. Shame. My only encounter with her was on my first morning at your place when I found her on the road standing outside her vehicle screaming your name. There was a duiker on the road. She was worried about his safety. Not sure what she expected you to do. Tuck the little fellow under your arm and carry him out into the veld?


    Liked by 2 people

    1. Hahahahahahahahahaha I’d forgotten that duiker. What a cool little thing. Must have been hand raised. And wow it must have been tough treating an abscess on a cat. P’s course of antibiotics and anti inflammatories starts today – wish me luck with that snarly little mouth of hers.

      Liked by 2 people

  5. Wow. Just, wow *eyes wide in disbelief* (about the neighbour and her asswipe). What kind of person offers someone who has just got out of rehab, a fucking joint??????????? What a douche bag. Fuck them Blah. She sounds like a user and a victim – you really don’t need that shit in your life. I believe that people who are insecure, or confronted by their own “fluid” sexuality espouse homophobic behaviour. And that’s because they think there is something wrong with being attracted to people of their own sex – and he probably has been, because its the human condition. To me, our sexual “orientation” can be viewed as a spectrum from male to female, with our attraction (or orientation) being fluid, or dynamic. Some people are more attracted to the opposite sex, others to the same sex, and yet others equally to both sexes (or none at all). Its called being human really – why we have to “normalise” or “other” who we are attracted to confounds me.

    But onto more important matters! Poor pus-and-blood-dog!!! And, eeeeeuuuuuwwwww for getting all that goo all over yourself. Fuckin hell! I would have spewed if it had happened to me! I did feel a bit queasy reading that, but I’ll get over it ;-)

    I could “listen” to your whining all day long. You have an amazing way with words. I love it.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Glad to hear Dog is healing and doing better. What a horrible night to spend; caring for a sick animal is so much more difficult than a sick human. When my cat fell ill, I spent nights sleeping on the floor near the chair he was in. I just couldn’t leave his side. Make sure you recoup.

    As for your neighbor and her boyfriend…There’s nothing I’d like better than to have the extra cash to just fly down there right here and now. I’d bring all sorts of rainbow banners and signs and balloons and you and I would mix up some near toxic alcohol, crank up the music, and have us a QUEER party. Bloody hell! He’s a fucking moron. And she’s a moron plus an ass for switching up the way she treats you. I’d slap dat bitch into tomorrow.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I read this last night on the elliptical and I could not believe it about your friend and the drama that ensued. (Don’t get me started on P. dog- all I can say is that if I had an injury I’d want you around! You handled that situation with love and so beautifully – the Kiwis are lucky you took charge!!)

    Anyway, back to the friend. What a fine kettle of fish! (I think that’s from an L.M. Montgomery book.) Jeez. You got great comments in response to this situation. I echo the ones I read and liked. You’re also quite wise not to stir things up too much since you do live in a small town! You know what to do, eh? And please write about this kind of stuff anytime – never hesitate – you help us more than you know and also because I get in these types of situations sans the homophobia, but with other shit.

    I’m jealous that roughghosts got to visit you! I’m proud to be your friend, virtual counts too! ;) You’re a lovely soul and dammit, you deserve your own huge chunk of happiness.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. “I’m a lesbian”
    “do you fancy me?”
    Oh God why do insecure people always assume this (and then get super offended that you don’t)????
    It took me 2 hours to find it because I haven’t re-read it from the start for years, but it reminded me of this (from my favourite lesbian webcomic), particularly panel 6:


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