But it's not like I don't know what to do with myself. Indeed, I've got a ton of stuff to do before I can try and get out on the bike. Miles to go before I can go a few miles, so to speak. But the weekend's big task was also the weekend's first. Saturday morning, Patty and I headed back to our veterinarian's office in Lansing to pick up two cats. One was Mars' ashes. The other was the very much alive Sparky.
We met Sparky when we were there to, as it turned out, say goodbye to Mars. She had been left at Dr. Kimble's office with a badly broken leg that couldn't be splinted because of an accompanying skin wound. Nothing will replace Mars, but this cat was in deep need of a good home and suddenly ours had room.
Her broken leg and open sore should have had her in a bargeload of pain, but she somehow hadn't gotten the misery memo. Dr. Kimble's biggest challenge was getting her to quit playing so enthusiastically that it interfered with her healing and risking re-injury. Sparky is her working name - like all pets, she has to go through Name Probation until we're sure it's accurate - but it seems like a safe bet. She is not, my cartoonist friends will be surprised to learn, named after the great Charles Schulz. She's named after former Detroit Tigers manager and legendary English-language mangler Sparky Anderson and his eloquent quote, the one I hold dear, "Pain don't hurt." †
So there you go. Two chronic overtrainers in the household now.