I did have a request for the accidental dusty hunt story, so here it is. :)
Last August, on a beautiful summer day, I went into the back yard to take pictures of my swatched nails. When I did so, I found a tiny kitten on my porch, who was clearly in desperate need of medical attention. He was absolutely tiny, and one of his eyes was swollen shut, and had a huge bump coming out over one eye. I rushed him to the vet.
He was the size of about a 4-week-old kitten, but it turned out he was about 8 weeks--he was so close to starving that he was nothing but bones. Fleas were literally sucking the life out of him--he had so little blood that his gums and tongue were white. And of course, there was that huge swollen mound over his eye. The vet got rid of the fleas, got some nutrients into him, and managed to drain much of the pus out of the mound over his eye, although it was still too messed up for the eye to open.
I spent the next two days taking constant care of him, with the help of my vet. Then he took a turn for the worse, became very lethargic and just felt different to me, so I rushed him back in. The vet (a different one) said they would do all they could for him, but I needed to know that he probably wasn't going to make it. He let me know that the best thing might be to put him out of his misery.
But you see, this kitten, despite everything, had been playing. Playing with my fingers, with the blanket I had him wrapped in, with the little mouse I had for him. He was sweet and playful, and I found it hard to believe that putting him down was the right thing. So I told the vet I wanted to try to give him a chance, and see how it went, and if it didn't work so be it. But I felt he deserved that chance to live.
The vet looked at me, nodded, and told me to come pick him up in a couple of hours. I went and ran some errands, crying on and off nearly the entire time. Is it crazy to be crying for a kitten I'd just found 2 days before? Maybe. But there you have it.
When I was done with the errands, I still had about a half hour left before I could pick him up. Not long enough to really do anything substantial, so I decided to visit an independent beauty supply near me. She specializes in hair products and really only has Kleancolors for sale, but I like Kleancolors, and figured I could try to distract myself with pretty polishes while I waited, and maybe find one to buy myself as a birthday present. Oh, did I mention it was my birthday?
So in I went, and I picked myself out two Kleancolors. As I looked them over, I tried to reconcile myself to the fact that the kitten might not make it. Every cell in my body rebelled against that thought, and it killed me to feel so helpless, to not be able to fix the situation. I tried hard to remind myself that it wasn't in my control, and that the important thing was I had done everything possible to save his life. The rest was up to God/The Universe/whatever higher power you believe in.
I paid for the polish, and then I headed out. As I did, I noticed she had a box of polishes in the back corner of a display case showing hair jewelry. My eye hit a China Glaze bottle with a silver top, and my heart skipped a beat...it was a soft avocado green.
I thought to myself 'No way can that be L8R G8R. Just no way.' My heart sped up, and I nonchalantly asked to see the box. I didn't pick up the green one first--of course not, I played it cooooool. But when I did pick it up--L8R G8R. And not only that...she also had TMI. Oh, and a rare OPI DS holo. I had accidentally stumbled on to polish heaven. I asked her how much they were, and she told me apologetically that there were more expensive than the $1.99 Kleancolors...They were $4.99.
Holy crap. I think that's cheaper than they sold for originally.
I know what I'm about to say sounds silly. I know it does. Of course I was excited beyond words to find some super-rare polishes, which were selling on the internet for $40 each. But the thing is, it was so much more than that. For the first time that day, I felt true hope that the kitty was going to be okay. It was like someone had sent me a sign to let me know that good things do happen. I know it makes no logical sense to connect those two things. But that's the truth of what finding those polishes did for me that day.
When I picked my baby up a few minutes later, I found out he had done a complete turn-around. He was eating. He was walking, he was alert, happy, and robust. And his eye had opened. He was going to require constant care for the next several weeks, but he was going to live.
Here is a picture I took of him shortly after that visit to the vet:
And here he is today:
I love my L8R G8R, let me assure you of that. I love it with the deep, ardent passion that only the polish obsessed can truly understand, lol. But my darling Neo is by far the best birthday present that I ever got. :)