First off, they weigh her in the crate. There is a sticker on top that tells how much the crate weighs. So all they have to do is subtract 3.9. And they never have to touch her. Perfect. But then the vet tries to 'palpate her abdomen' and she comments under her breathe that she's not sure she can even feel what's inside a cat 'this big'. I know she's big, but she's not ginormous or anything. Although she is tipping the scales at about 15 or 16 right now. She swings a little bit when she walks. She's supposed to do that, right???
The vet suspected a hair ball too far down to hack up. Nasty, I know! Anyhoo, she gave her antibiotics. Pills. But we have a pill popper. It's this little thing we can plunge the pill down her with. The hubby is an expert with the pill popper. I get everything 'ready', which really means putting butter on the capsules so they will slide down. sweet. He rubs her neck until she's in a little kitty trance and then down the hatch. A little more rubbing, one more pill and still a little more rubbing. And it's over in about 10 seconds. Ta-da!
She likes to lick the butter mustache off herself. I don't blame her.
The other
But to top it all off... something we're giving her causes her 'business' to smell like an actual skunk has visited the premises. The fun ever stops.
1 comment:
Oh, my gosh. You have your hands full. (would you like 3 more? Please.)
I saw your comment on Karen’s blog. I am sorry to hear your story and the pain you have endured. It is SO unnecessary.
Each Day, I wonder what is this life to be for me? It looks picture perfect on some days. But I know how badly it can become.
I enjoy reading your blog. I wish you the best in life.
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