#100BM Day 52
Hamish had the worst day yesterday. He was woken up from a nap in a sunbeam to GO IN THE CAR and GO TO THE VET where he had to FACE OTHER CATS.
Then after being fawned over by the techs and the vet, he had his bladder stabbed and blood drawn so a ‘geriatic panel’ could be done.
I spent a pile of money I didn’t really have and took him back to the car for the five minute drive home. He was on a leash in there rather than a carrier, because I am a cheapskate who hasn’t replaced the carrier he broke out of (and just plain broke) years and years ago, and because, as I said, I live very near the clinic. Oh, and I’m an asshole.
He crawled in my lap and curled up, then peed on me.
Thanks dude. You got your revenge and made me even later to work because I had to do emergency laundry.
At least it didn’t get into the car seat because good lord.
But seriously, WE WOULD HAVE BEEN A PEE-SAFE PLACE IN A COUPLE OF MINUTES, man.
Anyway, the vet (who both looks and sounds about 19) just called with results. His T4 is quite high, but not high enough to confirm hyperthyroidism. But since he has, like, all the other symptoms, including a nodule on his thyroid, and weighing, like, a 1/3 less than he did last summer, we’re going to try out medication for a month to see what happens.
I haven’t had to give him pills in seven years or so, since he had a kidney thing related to a reaction to anaesthetic. I am very lucky Ham has been healthy for so long. But ugh, mornings are going to get just a smidge more annoying and sad from now on, each pill a reminder of the old dude’s mortality.
Let’s hopep it’s not going to be like every claw-trimming attempt, when I end up trying to reason with the feline creature. Why do I ever think he’ll understand ‘This will be easier if you cooperate! WORK WITH ME, BEAST!’ Spinster madness.