The cat becomes more and more bold the longer he is in the house. Going so far as to bother us in the night and pee on my bean bag chair, probably because the texture of the beans bear a striking resemblance, to cat paws, to the texture of cat litter.
He heard me on the phone this morning and came upstairs to fetch me for breakfast. I was on the phone with the dentist’s office. They referred me to an endodontist. Which for the uninitiated, as I was until 9:15 this morning, is the guy who does root canals.
Root canals. Two root canals. Upwards or $2,000 because I don’t currently have dental insurance. Two root canals that are not even my fault for not flossing enough, but somehow my dentist’s fault because my teeth were not in pain until after he put in his goddamn fillings.
I made the cat comfort me with his softness and his purring for a few minutes before going down to feed him. I now understand, intellectually, the litigious impulse to make doctors pay out for their mistakes. However, I’d much rather punch the man in the mouth than sue him.