Scout went to the vet this week. Neither of us were especially thrilled but it was necessary.
He's mostly fine but we came home with drops for his ears, pills to crush up in his food and a probiotic to squirt in his mouth. To put it mildly, it's going to be a long twelve days for us both.
Sigh.
It's hard when our pets are sick because they can't tell us what's wrong. In fact, we don't always know there's a problem until their symptoms worsen. He did find ways to communicate his dissatisfaction at being stuffed in a carrier, forced to ride in a car and then carted into a strange place to be prodded by strangers.
Guys, he sang the song of his people the entire way and lost a whisker through this ordeal.
On the way home, I stopped by a neighborhood drive-thru for a milkshake. He had calmed down by then but you should have seen the look he gave me when I ordered that shake. People think animals don't understand what's going on but he gave me a look of disgust as though to say "you stopped for ice cream? Take me home!"
So we went home to the tuna I promised him. It was laced with medicine and I managed to get the other stuff in him too.
It wasn't good but I guess it could have been worse. We are currently in an uncomfortable place where he sniffs his food carefully in case I tried to poison him with that nasty medicine. He also keeps a wide berth when we are near each other.
Oh, and in case you ever need to know, cats can indeed close their ears. Wish me luck with those ear drops.
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