Get away from me! Shoo! It's my turn to send a message. And it's my turn to complain.Last week, my humans packed me into my carrier cage and took me to what they euphemistically call "camp." I've been there plenty of times before, but I have NEVER suffered the indignities that I suffered this time. When they picked me up, I was wearing a hat.
No, I do NOT think I look cute. Do you think I like looking like an idiot--or a dog. I do NOT. I was just supposed to stay a couple of days, but my female human was worried about my weight (I'm fashionably thin) and wanted my thyroid checked. That means a blood test. I HATE blood tests. Oh yes, note the shaved leg. That's for the tests and surgery. My male human says I look like half a poodle. I hissed at him.
And she alsw wanted a spot on my back checked. I'd been worrying it for a while and licking it and it had gotten hard. "Gnarly" the mean doctor called it. They decided it should be removed. Didn't ask me, thank you very much. I could have told them it was fine, but noooo, they had to remove it.
That means, they put me to sleep. Then they shaved my brown spot. Then they cut me open. And then they cleaned my teeth before stitching me up. I'm bald! I'll be bald until spring. And I can't go outside until this nasty wound turns into a scar.
I'm getting even. I won't leave them alone. Instead of ignoring my humans, I have decided I must be where they are all the time. In laps. Under feet. I'll teach them to leave me alone. And I'll teach them to do all sorts of bad things to me.
My male human was pleased that the gnarly lump was friendly. At least, I think that's what benign means. No more medicines for me. I'm done. Nada. Zip. Nil. Don't even think about it.
5 comments:
This is Foxy: senior cat in the Mushko household. I have taken over my human's computer to say don't worry, Nikki. I had a fist-size (human fist, not cat fist) fibrosarcoma cancer removed from my leg, side, and back two years ago. Nearly a fourth of me was shaved, but my long hair grew back just fine. You can see a picture here:
http://peevishpen.blogspot.com/2009/02/doing-little-better.html
Your hair will come back sooner than you think. And you will look back and laugh at how funny you look in that collar.
Oh, Cousin Foxy, your scar is sooo much bigger than mine. I know my hair will grow back. I wonder how long it will be before my humans' scratches go away!
This is Bisquick. I know just how you feel - I've been through such indignities too! Usually I just bite my humans when they try to do these things. I guess that's why my medical file has a sign on the front that says, "Cat bites," but no one believes it because I'm so lovely. Anyway, I'm glad you're healthy.Sorry you need to wear that horrible lampshade.
Oh, Bisquick. What a good idea. I'll bite next time. My medical file lists my nickname as Monet, since I like to step in my pee and then draw all over the sides of the enclosure. I'm also known as Grumpy. I'm not grumpy at home. I'm loveable and a velcro kitty. I just do not like to be messed with.
Beautiful kitty. Going to the vet is no fun.
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