Monday, December 31, 2007

The Sad, Sad Life Of A Kitty

(caution all non-cat people: cat post)

Actually, it is very sad. My poor little girl Cleo has a bladder infection. At least, that's what I'm assuming she has. I went out to check on kitty-sitting kitties early this morning, and when I got back, all the rugs in the kitchen and bathroom were rumpled up, which is usually a sign that somebody is mad and has peed on them. So I check... but no pee. Then I watch as Cleo goes into the bathroom to use the litter box... again... and again... then when I open the bedroom door to feed Katie, she goes in there STRAIGHT to the litter box and sits and squats for what seems like forever. When she's done, I go over to check, and nope, no pee. Hmm. Starting to get suspicious.

I keep an eye on her for the next 10 minutes or so as she wanders around the house, stopping and squatting every few minutes, even going down the stairs to give the rug down there a try. No nothing. Plus she keeps running to the bathroom.

I've had my share of bladder infections, so I know what it's like to have to keep running to the bathroom with nothing happening. So by now, my heart is breaking for my poor little kittycat, who is obviously in misery. I call the vet and get the message center. I leave a message. Then I watch Cleo try to go to the litter box a few more times, and I just can't take it. So I call back and finally they answer, and I'm all frantic with, "My kitty has a bladder infection! She's miserable! Please get us in today, please, please!" They can fit us in at 1:30.

So I have reluctantly shut Cleo in the bathroom until 1:30 comes. She is in there, crying and scratching at the door, as if her little heart is breaking. My heart is breaking! I feel like I should go sit in there with her, read her Winnie The Pooh or something. And the worst of it is, once she's let out, she has to get put in a box, then into a car, then to the vet (crying all the way, I'm sure). Then she will probably have to be shut in the bathroom again for at least a night, and have antibiotics. Poor thing.

Goodbye, 2007. We've had enough of you.

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