The next part in the ongoing saga of my cats eyeballs involved making her another vet appointment and dragging her ass to it. Of course I knew she was going to have to go back at some point but I was dragging my feet on it because I still had medication for her and I had to go to work and holy shit how is it December already I have to give gifts to people this month. Fortunately the decision to call the vet clinic got made for me when I found blood in her fur.
There I was sitting calmly at my desk working on my Christmas card, music playing out of my head phones with a cup of tea beside me. Outside snow was coming down and I was enjoying watching it from my warm chair. Emoticon jumps up, and asks to be petted. I put my hand on her head and rub her thick soft fur. A thunderous purr starts up in her chest and I run my hand down her spine. She puts her butt in my face and then I see a few streaks of blood on her butt.
Freaking out ensued.
Of course this would happen when I have to leave for work for two days for a job that can't be missed. So I freak out some more and check the litter box and find out that there is blood on the litter around some poop and then I spend some time making sure the cat is not about to drop dead and then I tell the farm sitter and then I leave for work the next morning and resist the urge to text him like fifty times asking how the cats asshole is doing.
That might have been a bit much.
So then I get home and then I make an appointment and tell the receptionist that I found blood on her butt and I was kinda freaked and oh by the way her eyeballs are turning into big fat messes again and then they give me an appointment for later that afternoon. So at the appropriate time I shove Emoticon into a carrier and put on all the layers ever cause it's like 15 degrees outside without wind chill and then we get in the car and she starts meowing. Because she was just thrilled.
Of course going to the vet always makes me super nervous because what if this trip is where she is diagnosed with super cat eyeball tumors or catdealthitis or something? So we get to the waiting room and I try not to think about all the horrible things that could be wrong and instead I watched these two pug dogs come in that were dressed in Christmas sweaters.
Pug dogs. In Christmas sweaters.
It was god damned adorable. Even if their breathing sounded like they were farting out of there short little faces. Of course while I was smiling at the pure cuteness on legs I kept hearing these ominous thuds on the door across from us. Then a vet tech came and got one of the pugs and as she was leaving I saw a long tail sticking out from under the mystery door, accompanied by the sounds of a dogs toenails scrabbling on the floor.
Then the pug comes back and they are paying to leave and the pugs are walking around and breathing like deflating balloons and then without warning the door across from me bursts open and the biggest dog I have ever seen in my entire life comes rushing out of the door straight at us and then I was all like, “Holy crap I thought that thing was a small bear” and then the owner laughed while the giant fucking dog snorfled my hand and then it effortlessly wheeled around and put two paws up on the reception desk and looked the lady behind the desk magnificently in the eye before the owner could get him down. He came crashing to the floor and then he set eyes on the pugs.
There was a moment when the two bloated sausages with legs and festive sweaters considered the
horse big ass
dog before they both decided they could take each other and the
barking started. I have heard dogs whose barks were said to start at
their toes. This dog's bark started under the floor somewhere.
Possibly he just stored it in the basement wrapped around the
plumbing until he needed it.
“I'll just put him in the car and then pay.” The owner said calmly hauling his wheeling barking dog out the glass door. No one moved to stop him. Quiet came back to the waiting room and then the tech appeared and called us into a room and then I tried not to think about Catdealthitis and the vet comes in and puts dye in her eyeballs and then she shuts her third eyelid and then he tries to get her to look at him and then I try to get her to look at him and then she glares at us.
I couldn't really blame her at that point.
Then he talks us through this round of what he thinks her fucking eye ulcers are doing and then he looks at her and says that the mystery blood was probably parasites and gave her A dewormer pill which she promptly spat back onto the techs hand because Emoticon had clearly said fuck it by this point.
So after the great pill puke-a-thon he tells about this new med that he wants to put her on. He went on to say that it was not as vital as the other two but we could give it a shot to stop the discomfort and hopefully aid in the healing. The only catch here was that it might cause her to foam at the mouth.
Cue that record scratching sound.
I was all like, WTF? And he was all like, one in ten cats might have a bad reaction to it so most likely she will be fine and then he breezed out of the room and we collected our meds and paid the slightly frazzled desk lady and then we went home.
Scott started on dinner and then I gave her her first med and then was all like we might as well give this new one a shot. So I held her and told her she was an awesome kitty and put in the drops while she thought swear words at me and then I went into the kitchen to wash my hands and then Scott asked me a question and I answered it and then I poked my head back into the living room to see my cat doing her damnedest rabies impression.
There was drool coming out of that cats mouth like someone had poured a fucking bottle of bubble bath into a five jet hot tub.
I had to clean the floor twice. Twice.
Then I promised her that I wouldn't give her that one anymore and hoped that the vet would agree with me next week at our next appointment while she looked like she had just burst a pipe in her face.
Which was all the excitement I really needed for one evening, really.