A test from Grady
Wednesday, 7 February 2007 00:20![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fatrockstarGrady's barfing spell landed him a 1:30 p.m. appointment with Dr. Chan in Bellevue.
Some of you might remember the last time we took Grady to the vet because of his barfing. The vets at the Rose Hill Animal Hospital could find no blockage during the manual exam and decided to x-ray him. In order to x-ray him they needed to sedate him. This was not standard procedure because my cat is High Maintenance and does not like to be separated from his familiar humans for any reason. He flipped out. The experience was traumatizing, so a new doctor (Chan) was in order.
Up until the x-ray incident Grady was always happy to get into his carrier. "Oh boy! Going for a ride in the car-car!" Afterwards... I pretty much had to cram him in there. It was not fun. He makes these noises that just make me feel so guilty. In the car he was quiet. Things were okay.
Grady did not like Dr. Chan at all. With the same effort it took to cram him into the carrier I managed to get him out of it. He was a mess. His fur was flying off of him like Pigpen and he looked kinda psycho. She seems like a nice gal, but I think Grady's growling and random mewing may have spooked her. Is that even possible? Grady never nipped at her or took a swipe, but he did try to hide in my armpit. Thanks, cat.
She wanted to keep him overnight and put him on an I.V. but I vetoed that, citing The Rose Hill Incident. An injection of anti-nausea meds was given just in case. He's now on a prescription diet and anti-nausea pills. There has been very little eating going on (and no meds taken because of it), but he IS drinking water. Lots of water. I call that a good sign.
When I got him home and let him out he would not leave my side. This is kind of normal.
What isn't normal is hounding me constantly, climbing up my legs, following me into every room, and jumping on my back when I bend over for any reason. I set out three kinds of food. He has fresh water. I played with him and he seemed uninterested. I snuggled him. I talked to him. I held him. He would not relent. He simply had to be a part of my person and didn't care how to do it. He rubbed everything I came in contact with, including a stack of papers I was gathering to recycle.
It was cute for the first 20 minutes and then it became creepy. I couldn't get away! Noooooo! I finally sat down at the dining room table, where he (predictably) also took a seat. I looked at him and said "if you don't learn to speak English soon we're going to have a problem."
No, I didn't say that. I did sit down with him at the table, though.
I said, "I have fed you, played with you, loved you, and held you. Your litter box has been cleaned. What in the world do you want?! I am at the end of my rope!"
His answer? "Maaaaaaaooow. mrrr. mao." Then he stood up and sideswiped the back of his chair like he was drunk.
I'm serious. This is what life with Grady is like.
After six hours of this I called Garret and asked him to come home and relieve me of Grady duty. When Garret arrived home the madness stopped. Figures. Garret is the Cat Daddy.
Now that I no longer had to fight off the cat's attention I realized that a trip to the grocery was in order and left. My back is still bothering me from being bed-ridden all weekend and just got worse with the casual stroll through my list and made my shopping trip longer than it needed to be.
Tylenol isn't helping the pain, either, so Garret gave me a pill that's taking a bit of the edge off. It's not Tylenol. Heh.
More on the pain later. Today is Garret's big three-oh, and I need to figure out how to get his birthday gift to him without any way to lift it. Happy Birthday, Bunny!
Some of you might remember the last time we took Grady to the vet because of his barfing. The vets at the Rose Hill Animal Hospital could find no blockage during the manual exam and decided to x-ray him. In order to x-ray him they needed to sedate him. This was not standard procedure because my cat is High Maintenance and does not like to be separated from his familiar humans for any reason. He flipped out. The experience was traumatizing, so a new doctor (Chan) was in order.
Up until the x-ray incident Grady was always happy to get into his carrier. "Oh boy! Going for a ride in the car-car!" Afterwards... I pretty much had to cram him in there. It was not fun. He makes these noises that just make me feel so guilty. In the car he was quiet. Things were okay.
Grady did not like Dr. Chan at all. With the same effort it took to cram him into the carrier I managed to get him out of it. He was a mess. His fur was flying off of him like Pigpen and he looked kinda psycho. She seems like a nice gal, but I think Grady's growling and random mewing may have spooked her. Is that even possible? Grady never nipped at her or took a swipe, but he did try to hide in my armpit. Thanks, cat.
She wanted to keep him overnight and put him on an I.V. but I vetoed that, citing The Rose Hill Incident. An injection of anti-nausea meds was given just in case. He's now on a prescription diet and anti-nausea pills. There has been very little eating going on (and no meds taken because of it), but he IS drinking water. Lots of water. I call that a good sign.
When I got him home and let him out he would not leave my side. This is kind of normal.
What isn't normal is hounding me constantly, climbing up my legs, following me into every room, and jumping on my back when I bend over for any reason. I set out three kinds of food. He has fresh water. I played with him and he seemed uninterested. I snuggled him. I talked to him. I held him. He would not relent. He simply had to be a part of my person and didn't care how to do it. He rubbed everything I came in contact with, including a stack of papers I was gathering to recycle.
It was cute for the first 20 minutes and then it became creepy. I couldn't get away! Noooooo! I finally sat down at the dining room table, where he (predictably) also took a seat. I looked at him and said "if you don't learn to speak English soon we're going to have a problem."
No, I didn't say that. I did sit down with him at the table, though.
I said, "I have fed you, played with you, loved you, and held you. Your litter box has been cleaned. What in the world do you want?! I am at the end of my rope!"
His answer? "Maaaaaaaooow. mrrr. mao." Then he stood up and sideswiped the back of his chair like he was drunk.
I'm serious. This is what life with Grady is like.
After six hours of this I called Garret and asked him to come home and relieve me of Grady duty. When Garret arrived home the madness stopped. Figures. Garret is the Cat Daddy.
Now that I no longer had to fight off the cat's attention I realized that a trip to the grocery was in order and left. My back is still bothering me from being bed-ridden all weekend and just got worse with the casual stroll through my list and made my shopping trip longer than it needed to be.
Tylenol isn't helping the pain, either, so Garret gave me a pill that's taking a bit of the edge off. It's not Tylenol. Heh.
More on the pain later. Today is Garret's big three-oh, and I need to figure out how to get his birthday gift to him without any way to lift it. Happy Birthday, Bunny!
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7/2/07 17:37 (UTC)Sorry bout the pain, I hope it'll ease soon...
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7/2/07 22:03 (UTC)