T-to-the-A

HORROR!

In Essays, The Daily Drool on September 28, 2009 at 7:46 pm

I have always had cats.  Grew up with ’em and all their curious kitty ways, from midnite scratch sessions to midnite “OhmyGod,whatdidyoubringinhere?” panic attacks (the pet door was under my lofty bed, and cats know no time like the middle of the night to bring in not-yet-dead birds/mice/lizards for their owner’s appeasement.

Once on a visit to my parents house I was left alone with their wounded cat Smudge – Smudge had gotten out and, being the oversized love-muffin that he was, gotten himself beaten UP.  Only, no one knew how bad because upon his terrorized return to the house, he had high-tailed it under my parents’ bed and stayed put… for THREE DAYS. Well, fast forward to “We’ll be back tomorrow” and Tiffany’s the only one around when Sir Smudge chooses to emerge from his hiding place, drag his ass to the window and leap up onto the window ledge with a “Pop!”

“A what?” you ask…

A POP.  An audible-from-the-next-room POPPING of the as yet unseen abscess on his neck.

Cue Wild Thing, our helpful little Spaniel, and her helpful little tongue lick, lick, licking at the now-dripping Smudge on his feeble attempt to return to the bed.

So what do you do?  You grab the cat and toss it in the bathroom.  You steer the dog to the bedroom and shut the door behind her.  And you pull on a pair of bright yellow dish gloves and one of dad’s medical masks, grab the whole roll of paper towels and anything that kills germs, and you mop up the oozing mess sprayed across the window and sill… and carpet… Ugh!

I think my phone call to the Vet’s office went something like this:  “Hello?  Yeah, I need to bring my cat, my parents cat actually… They’re not here- but his neck, oh, it uh, exploded!”  (nervous chuckle at other end) Can you say that again? “The cat’s neck EXPLODED.  He had an infection or something.  Are you open?  He’s in the bathroom. The dog wants to lick it, I might throw up!”

Maybe it was the high-pitched panic in my voice, but she stopped chuckling and that cat wound up with 17 stitches in his neck.  I called him Frankecat for a long time afterwards.

And I always thought I had had one of the worst gross-out experiences you can have with that… until today.

Today I noticed something curious about my cats bottom… clinging to his orangy fur was something white and wriggly… and as I leaned down, holding his tail for a closer look, I gasped- HORRIFIED- at the nefarious little worm working its way across my cat’s behind.

GrossGrossGrossGROSS!!!!!!

I have to get them in to the vet immediately.  I vacuumed all the carpets, I’ve been keeping a suspicious eye on his every move.  He doesn’t understand why I suddenly refuse to let him on my lap, and with every little twitch and itch I think I’ve somehow managed to walk into a web of the creepy-crawlies.

How does an indoor cat who eats ONLY cat food and the occasional leafy green get worms?  YECH!

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