Mar 30 2002
Hillbilly Deluxe
If there’s anything that can make you feel worse than taking your cats to the vet, it’s starving them all before you take the chosen victims to their doom.
Cleo had to have her teeth cleaned this morning, so that meant no food after 9 last night, since cats very sensibly insist on being knocked out before allowing their teeth to be cleaned. For those of you not fortunate enough to live in a multi-cat household, let me tell you: if one cat can’t eat, none of them can. So snacks all around at 8 last night, but at 6 this morning, they didn’t hesitate to tell us exactly how hungry they were, and how very much the snack had worn off and was a faint memory.
It really sucks to have coffee and get dressed with all your cats crying and looking at you sadly, as if to say, “Why won’t you feed me?” But we heartlessly bundled Cleo and Hannah into their carriers and walked to the vet. They took Cleo in the back and I felt so horrible seeing her in the cage. She looked exactly the same as she had in when we first saw her at the pound, huddled in the back looking terrified. We made sure to tell her “See you later,” because that’s what we say every morning when we go to work, so she’d know she wasn’t doomed to be there forever.
While Cleo was getting ready, we had Hannah’s ears checked and cleaned. She has had a problem with ear infections since we first got her, because she was, at barely a month old, too young to be away from her mother, and didn’t develop the antibodies she needed. That plus the fact that our vet suspects that she is as inbred as an Arkansas hillbilly (no offense to y’all, especially Mr. Clinton), since she knows something of Hannah’s litter and this is apparently a problem with inbred AND purebred cats, which is kind of interesting. Both royalty and hillbillies subject to the same affliction. There is some kind of poetic justice in that…
Oh, the vet just called and Cleo’s ready to be picked up! See ya!
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