Nothing about my vet appointment on Monday was pleasant.
I was awoken furrom my afternoon cat nap and forced into that god-awful carrier, my mortal enemy. Your neighborhood feline fought tooth and nail with mother but needless to say, my efforts purroved futile. My only chance for reprisal came during the car ride where I made sure to cry extra loud and hard to make Mom feel even worse fur me. I think it worked because she kept telling me we were almost there fur the entirety of the 15 minute drive and that she would nevfur let anything happen to me in her distinctively high-pitched “cat-mom” voice.
Upon our arrival, Mom inundated the nurse with videos of me doing the “licky-thing” as it is apparently refurred to. Next thing I know, I’m being whisked away only to have a couple doctors pry my mouth open to discover I have lost one tooth—one. My tongue reflexes are working purrfectly fine, but I do have some inflammation.
TMI I know, but Mom insisted I make sure I filled you in on all the details. My doctor thinks I might have another tooth ache, which is triggering the “licky-thing” and now has me on an anti-inflammatory and anti-biotic medication fur 12 days.
I used to look forward to Mom and Dad opening the refurrrigerator, but now I run because that’s where my medicine is.
If the medicine doesn’t do the trick, Mom has to schedule a dental cleaning to investigate my diagnosis furrther, which means another trip to the vet. She’s supposed to called the doctor back on Furriday to let her know how I’m doing.
Paws crossed Mom is able to delivfurr some good news!