| kitty! | ||
| 4.3.2004 |
12:11 AM stinky Moji. Me. The monkey is out of the hospital, thank goodness. They'd removed his catheter last night, and had been waiting for him to go on his own. No such luck. They wanted to wait till he urinated on his own before releasing him. And he finally did. Just not in the box. (sigh) When I got him this evening, he'd peed all over himself. And wouldn't let a soul get near him without a growl, hiss, or nip. Of course, Mommy could reach right in and grab him up. And of course, he just snuggled right in for a cuddle. (sigh) I love my baby boy. Yes I do. They told me to watch that he used in his box at home, so we're now in the bathroom, me in fresher clothes and he all disposable-handi-wash-shampooed up. I feel like I still smell, and I'm so tired, I could stretch out here on the floor, but for the aforementioned litter box under the sink and in my way. (yawn) Love, love, love. Sure do love my baby cat. |
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| 4.2.2004 |
12:51 AM to pee or not to pee The baby cat's in the hospital again. Poor monkey, he was all blocked up again. This time I caught him straining; by the time I got him to Adobe on Wednesday morning, he was all tuckered out. Moji knew where he was going, though, and what those fools were going to do to him, and he wasn't having it, not this time. He tensed up like he was doing isometrics and kegels. After the young vet (not Dr. Christy he was kinda used to) poked and prodded with the tubing and yet didn't get it in (ouch, ouch, ouch, it hurt just to watch), he decided that he'd had enough and could do it himself; when I picked him up to comfort him, he let loose a stream of urine all over the floor and, well, me. "Wow, look at that flow!", the tech said. All through the procedure, everyone marvelled at how good he was, just growling a little. And this time, they gave him some anesthesia and valium while they put the flexible catheter in. The young vet was very sweet. At one point, she bent down and kissed him on his little black nose, telling him he was such a good boy. And in return, he, though drowsy and drugged up, let out the tiniest hiss - "ssss..." - we all had to laugh. I got to carry him back to ICU and put on his collar - the awful cone-shaped thing to keep him from pulling out the catheter and IV. I got a call from a tech that afternoon, asking if I was coming by that evening. "We want to give him some meds, but he's being kinda uncooperative." That's my baby. During my visit that evening, he took his pills with no fuss (while I was holding him), and let me cradle his little head in my hands. I was pleased to see that the urine in the catheter was clear by then. My little fuzzy love, he kept giving me that look, "I hate this place and these people; take me home, right now, please." I'm with you, Booble; I can't wait till you come home, too. |
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