Doooooods. What a weekend! So in case you hadn't heard, I hadded to go to the hospital. It was not that mancatly. They stoled my bloods and shaved my luxurious furs and stuck me with needles and poked at my belly constantly. They covered me with goopy stuff and stinky stuff and I had to wear a cone of shame. They examined my pee and my poops. But they didn't stick anything in my Spot #13. Check this out, doods - their thermometer goes in your ear and only takes one second! No thermometers went where they REALLY don't belong, if you know what I mean. I didn't really like it in my ear, but The Mom was scritching my chin and the whole thing was over before I knew it. You know, like in one second.
So the v-e-t said that they found paper and plastic and a 4" piece of string in my poop. And that was what was making my belleh so hurty. The Mom asked to see it because she wanted to know what the paw I ate - she can account for the plastic (Tazo scored us a package of homemade cookies in the middle of the night on Tuesday and we split the cookies and she let me have the plastic wrap since she doesn't think it tastes good), but she has no idea what the paper and string would be from since string is banned from our house and I'm not really a paper eater. But they had "disposed" of that poop by the time she got up there. Doods, she's a weirdo. Between her and the v-e-ts and the techs, I don't think I've ever met a group of beans so interested in kitteh poops. They don't think there's anything bad left in there, but The Mom is watching me like a hawk for the next few days. She's hovering like crazy. I can't wait for her to go back to work tomorrow so me and Dad can get back to our regular bizness. He doesn't hover nearly as much as she does. He's pretty mancatly like that.
Anyway, I had to spend two nights there. Everybody was really nice, but it was eggshausting. There's always stuff going on there and it requires a ton of snoopervision. Plus, there was a dawg in the crate next to mine who would not shut up. She whined and howled and made a nuisance of herself the whole time. The techs would tell her, "Muffin, you can't eat yet." and "Muffin, it's not time for a snack." And I'm thinking, "Give that Muffin a snack and shut her up." Doods, I'm not used to yappy dawgs. Those delicious, pink ears at my house are always super duper quiet. After all that yapping, I have so many naps to catch up on now that I'm home.
The food there was terrible. The stinky goodness they tried to give me? Not nommy. Not nommy at all. I'm pretty sure they were trying to poison me. Dad brought me a big bowl of boiled chicken and rice on Saturday and he brought my plate from home. I nommed that snack right up. The v-e-t's kibble was ok - I ate a little bit, but I can't wait to get back to my own kibble.
The v-e-t techs that The Mom talked to all said that I was very mancatly. Rumor has it that I screamed like a little girl when they were removing my IV yesterday, but that's just not true. A mancat would never scream like a little girl in a situation like that. I think it was Muffin, that yappy dawg next to me. Yeah, that's it. It was Muffin.
So I guess you're not supposed to eat cookies and the plastic that they come in. And I guess garbage bags aren't meant for nomming either. And I feel a little bit bad that Dad and The Mom were so worried about me. I have to take pills for a week, but I get to eat boiled chicken and rice for two whole days before I get weaned back on my own foods.
We here at Casa de Furry Kids would really like that thank everybody for all the purrs and purrayers and good thoughts. It means a lot to us - The Mom is still getting leaky eyes when she reads the comments on our bloggie. Furkids that we've never met stopped by to give us some love and purrs. We'll be stopping by to thank you guys. The Cat Blogosphere is the best! And I'd really like to send special thanks to KC for posting my story on Saturday morning and getting the word out. She works super hard and we just want her to know how much we appreciate all she does.
Showing posts with label hurty tummies are no good. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hurty tummies are no good. Show all posts
Monday, January 17, 2011
Friday, April 24, 2009
Froot Bat Friday
Monday, February 2, 2009
Mancat Monday
Mancat Rule of the Day: It is very mancatly to watch over
In case your The Moms weren't on Facebook all weekend, like some The Moms I know, Titus hadded to go to the v-e-t on Friday. The Mom came home for lunch and he was shivering a lot and running around the house and generally freaking out. Which freaked out The Mom because Titus is as chill as they come. So she called the v-e-t because she thought he might be having a seizure or something from all the sugar in the box of Lucky Charms. The v-e-t told The Mom to bring him right in. The good news is that his bloodwork showed his blood sugar to be perfect (which shocked The Mom and Dr P). He had a couple of lower values, but Dr P said that that was consistent with
In other news, thank you all for voting in my evil twin poll. I feel so much better now that he has a name. Welcome, Hurl Grey! Welcome to our home!!
In other, other news, tune in tomorrow. We're having a special guest blogger. We are so honored to be graced with this blogger's presence. We can't wait!
Monday, December 1, 2008
Mancat Monday
First of all, our pal, Misty, over at Crews Views has had a terrible, horrible, no good very bad weekend. She gotted lots of thread stuck in her tummy and the V-E-T had to cut it out. She's going to have a hurty tummy for a while, so please head over there and give her some purrs and headbutts. And her The Mom could use some hugs and kind words, too. Me and my The Mom know how awful obstructions are and we remember how much all the prayers and comments helped, so if you have a minute head on over to say hi to Misty and her The Mom.

And the Mancat Rule of the Day is: It is very manly to help your The Mom with the recycling. See? I am holding down that pile of boxes that she's going to take to the recycling place on Monday.
And the Mancat Rule of the Day is: It is very manly to help your The Mom with the recycling. See? I am holding down that pile of boxes that she's going to take to the recycling place on Monday.
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