So what’s been going on?
Funny I should ask myself that under the auspices that you’re asking.
I know many of you have followed the cat tales that occasionally get posted here, and if you do, you’re familiar with this guy, who is basically a shrunken jungle cat who roams around the house and reminds us every day that we should have gone the dog route:
Turns out (Side note: don’t you hate when people say, “Turns out…”? Because whatever is turning out is almost always (a) not interesting, and (b) not as revelatory as the person saying ‘turns out’ thinks.) Anyway, it turns out this cat is the pet equivalent of owning a 1950’s Italian sports car: it’s fickle, not altogether well-engineered, more delicate than you might expect and, at times, downright insane.
About a year ago, this cat came across a little Nerf ball from one of my son’s many Nerf-based weapons he has lying about the house. Like most cats, he approached this green, synthetic-smelling ball of strange chemicals with a cat’s natural curiosity. After smelling it for a few moments and deciding it was, in fact, COMPLETELY toxic and NOTHING resembling food, he ate it.
Three hours later, he threw it up.
Three days later, he was getting surgery by Dr. Paul Vitenas because he swallowed enough to block his lower GI tract and couldn’t digest any food.
Four days later, he was back in the hospital because he had a heart irregularity and other post-op complications.
Two days later, he was fine. By fine I mean he was back home in a metal cage strong enough to house a Woolly Mammoth and throwing himself violently against the metal sides like an Alcatraz prisoner because he is a noble jungle cat, you see, and AIN’T NO WAY he’s sitting inside some metal box all day. NOT HAPPENING.
I’ll spare you the financial impact this Nerf ball appetizer had. Suffice to say we could have gone to Daniel a few times over for the price of this dumdum’s little escapade.
Fast forward to present.
A week or so ago, we noticed this creep wasn’t eating much. And he was, um, ‘getting sick’ almost nightly. And he was crouching in corners making a deep, shuddering howl every 15 minutes. We really knew something was wrong when he wasn’t roaming around the house beating the living juice out of the other cats.
Something was up. And when something’s up, that means YAY VET EMERGENCY ROOM!
We took him to the vet ER. It’s a nice place, and it better be, because I think it’d be cheaper for me to cut my arm off and have it re-attached by solid gold robots using NASA’s top-secretest lasers than it is to have a cat looked at. But nonetheless, he gets ‘triaged’, and then taken back to have bloodwork run and vitals checked. We wait two hours. I read an entire HOUR Detroit magazine. We watch some cable news. Finally, the triage nurse comes back and asks us to go to another room to wait. Eventually, the doctor comes in.
“Well, he has a thickened lower GI tract, but his bloodwork is basically normal and he has no fever.”
“So do we know what’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nope. Could be a blockage, could be irritable bowel disease, could be parasite, could be an infection. No idea. I recommend an ultrasound tomorrow.”
Here’s what I heard: “You’ve been here for two hours and we’ve been playing Xbox in the back. We represent modern veterinary science. Bring a lot of money tomorrow.”
Of course, Mr. Nerf Eater here had to stay overnight for rehydration, observation, medication and apparently, judging by the bill, a trip to Peru for a massage and spa.
Two days later, he came home, and the mystery was solved. Oh, I’m sorry, did I say solved? I mean NOT SOLVED AT ALL. He still won’t eat much, he’s acting low-energy and wiggy, and he’s not showing a huge interest in food. He more or less skulks around looking forlornly at just about everything. But he’s not getting sick, so there’s that.
Turns out (ha!) that maybe his issue was the weird, gelatinous cat food we’ve been feeding him. Nobody really knows. Also, the food thing might explain why our other cat should star in cat Beano commercial. But that’s another story.
The good news? We got to go out and buy all new cat food for these jerks. Have you SEEN what whole-food, no-fillers-added cat food costs? Let me put it this way: these cats eat better food than you do. I AM NOT KIDDING. If the world goes all The Road and you’re looking for post-apocalyptic sustenance, good luck. Me, I have several hundred cans of perfect food on hand. And a cat that will kill me to eat it and then later throw it up.
So that’s what’s been going on. Thanks for asking.
Also: no links today. I just put you through 800 words of personal catharsis, so I won’t keep you any longer.
Have a great weekend, everyone.
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More links:
MIPRO Consulting main website.