Deep Breath


The last thing the vet told me before I left his office was to call the office about lunch time the next day and I could get the kittys tests back, I said will do, hustled kitty into his box , paid the sizable bill and went home. Kitty wasn’t speaking to me, he was hoarse after verbally reaming out everyone at the vets office, the Petsmart and the parking lot and at least two eighteen wheelers we passed on the way home. Dogger had plenty to tell me when we got home, about negligent dog mommies and the horrors of being trapped in her warm, dry fully stocked crate “A chamber of horrors” and her terrible hunger - how can she be expected to wait an extra hour to eat? What am I some sort of monster? Starving a poor, innocent dogger and then sentencing her to extra time in her soft, warm fully stocked crate? Yaddda, yadda whateveah.

The Kitty spent this time wandering around the house searching for his food bowl. It was exactly where he left it, on the floor of the bathroom where he has been living for the past few day since he started to fancy himself a decorator. Thanks to him, the house was covered in retro seventies era earth tones. I think he is only a few days away from sporting gold medallions and earth shoes.

I was able to appease him with some food and a Barry Manalow tape into the bathroom jam box. I finally got a chance to change my clothes and think about my dinner when I remembered it was Ash Wednesday and my dinning options were limited. I went with tuna sandwiches and sat down for the first time since I left work.


And then I waited. I had to wait to find out what, if anything was wrong with Kitty. There is a whole world of bad things that can happen to cats, they can develop diabetes, they can get kidney failure, heart problems, upper respiratory things. They can just fall apart and there isn’t anything you can do about it, but write numerous huge checks and I really had to think about that. I can’t write even one huge check, I can write a couple of smallish ones and would, if I had to. Kitty does have good timing, the last time he had a large expensive issue it was this time of year too, that last problem surfaced conveniently to eat my entire 2002 tax return.- but that was another vet, a less sympathetic vet, a less chain store kind of vet. A vet with a waiting room and magazine racks full of Architectural Digest, Southern Living and Dog Fancy not to mention designer cat tents and a huge fish tank. My current vet doesn’t have a waiting room, the reading material is limited to a hand full of Know Your Parasites pamphlets in the exam rooms and the only fish are the freebie cat treat variety at the check out counter and if you want a cat bed you need to see the Petsmart people .

Anyway. The vet said I would know by about noon the following day. I called at 12:30. Nothing. I called at 2:30. Nothing. I was beginning to think it was a something and they didn’t want to tell me over the phone. I was getting a little frantic by they time they finally called me - at 7:15pm! It turns out he has an elevated white count and is going to endure 10 days of pills being shoved down his throat. So, he’s more or less fine. He does not have diabetes or kidney failure or a heart condition, He is fat and that doesn’t help, but he’s fine. Thank God.