(More than) Fourinarow.net

And I’m not referring to my kids – this time.

Growing up, we always had at least one pet.  Often more than one or two.  I’ve always been an animal person, and didn’t really understand people who weren’t.  To me, having a family means having animals, too.

But, they can be… trying.  And expensive – in more ways than one.

The Cat Who Won’t Go Away is having more problems, so yesterday I called for yet another appointment with the vet.  And then tried to put it out of my mind, lest I become depressed.  (And, unfortunately, not at the thought of losing him.)

Later in the evening, as Dan was cleaning the kitchen and I was reading in bed, he wandered back and forth between the the two rooms and we discussed the kids, the day, his work, etc.  Seconds after one of his trips back into the kitchen, there was an absolute ERUPTION.

Did I mentioned I cooked a roast for dinner last night?  And that it wasn’t ready in time for the kids to eat?  So they ate something else and Dan and I ate some roast a little later?  And there was a LOT left over?  And it was sitting on the counter?  WAY too close to the edge?

Ummmm. Yeah.  So Cheerio attempted to supplement her dinner with ours.  Dan stopped her mid-chew.  Lose-lose.  But look on the bright side!  It’s Lent!  Today is Friday!  We couldn’t have had the leftovers anyway.  Today, that is.

Apparently after an eruption like that, Cheerio decided she needed a little extra comfort.  AND SLEPT ON OUR LEATHER COUCH last night, where Dan discovered her upon waking.  Not such a hot idea.

A few hours later, I dragged The Little Boys to the vet to get Chewy looked at.  After taking blood and urine from Chewy and my arm and leg, the vet came back and said she’d also like to do a CARDIAC ULTRASOUND on the cat.  His blood pressure is out the roof.  Could be his meds, could be a heart problem.  I just stood there.  Too dumbfounded to speak.  I may have nodded.  Thankfully there is no US machine in there office, so it has to be arranged… if we do it.

She left to write a prescription for some blood pressure medicine while we tried to entertain themselves in the exam room.  Thankfully, the boys were happy with my iPhone, unlike the cat, who chose to take a dump on the counter.  Immediately there were wails of “EWWWWWWWWW!  Disgusting!!!”  Stinky!” from the boys and much holding of noses.  (As if they’ve never stunk a place up.)  Luke wanted me to throw it away.  I explained that we couldn’t put it in the regular trash, that the vet probably has a special poop trashcan, and that we’d just have to wait for her to come get it and throw it away.

The cat then jumped down and peed all over the floor.  Guess they didn’t get it all when they took their sample.

As the boys huddled in the corner by the door begging to leave, the vet returned with the prescription. Luke promptly pointed out the gifts our cat was leaving behind.  As the vet tried to explain a few things to me, Luke peppered her with questions about whether or not she had a poop trash can and could she go throw the poop away?  Now?

So… anyone interested in a roast-stealing, couch-sleeping dog or a medicated, counter-pooping cat?

Photo of cat currently unavailable (but I swear it isn’t because he’s not around.)