widely requested (by @saltedpin and @msbarrows)
Yesterday, we took Mister to the vet for his vaccines. He hates his carrier and the car, so I have to pat him through the bars the whole way while he cries.
In his distress, he pisses in his carrier (first time for everything) and then falls over in his own piss. To make matters worse, I discover that a tiny amount of blue food colouring from the Xmas Incident has got into the carrier. I arrive at the vet with a highly indignant piss-wet cat with blue-green paws.
Turns out he is actually up to date with his vaccines, so we really could have put all this off until August. (Imagine my dismay.) Anyway, they take him off to get bloods done (expected weight loss but also weekly vomiting, just checking everything is ok). He is strangely silent on the way home.
He’s still covered in piss, so I try to bathe him for the first time. This is a Mistake. Neither of us have a good time, but he doesn’t bite or scratch me OR vocalise the whole time, which is unusual as he’s generally pretty chatty.
Once he’s dry, I go outside to put out the bins and get bitten on the back of the calf by Something Australian. I run inside, trying to take off my pants, and yeah, I have two puncture marks from who knows what (they are swollen today but I think it will be fine, fingers crossed).
And then Mister finds the Mouse. Hilarity ensues. Mister loses the Mouse under my sewing table and is inconsolable. I go to put on pants.
Twenty minutes later, I hear Mister crying Somewhere and discover that in my haste to get my pants off to find out what was biting me, I left the back door ajar. My indoor-only cat is outside, crying to come in. I pick him up only to discover he is absolutely. Fucking. Filthy.
He’s been rolling in dirt. The first time I have ever washed him and he rolls in dirt.
I brush the worst of it off (which was when I discover that they shaved a huge fucking chunk of fur off his neck to take blood—I did not know this would happen, so it came as something of a shock) and leave him to deal with the rest of it.
Later that night, he finds the Mouse again. And loses it in the bedroom.
This morning he found it, lost it, found it, and had it taken away under promise of tuna.
Now he’s roaming the house meowing inconsolably, probably because he wants his Mouse back. This is cat life.
