I thought the earlier barfing incident was just Chap’s usual adventures in hairball-tasticness, but apparently not.
He got really listless and cranky tonight, and after puking IN his litterbox then barely being mobile and crying in pain, I took him to the vet. He’s got some sort of urinary blockage that they’re going to have to surgically remove.
The bill just to walk out the door tonight was $1800. The estimate on keeping him there 2-3 days, which is what they anticipate, is $3000.
As much as that upsets me, what upsets me a lot more is the dead silence in my apartment right now. And that’s why I’m paying the money.
He’s my little buddy. I can’t bear the thought of him not being here when I come home. Not trying to randomly bite my arm off. Not eating me out of house and home.
And frankly I feel bad about how bad I feel about Chaplin, because my aunt, my mother’s sister, is also in the hospital right now.
I haven’t really written about this much, but she had a major heart attack two weeks ago that led to a whole bunch of major surgery – triple heart bypass AND surgery on both carotid arteries. I found out this afternoon she’s probably going to be stuck in the hospital for Christmas.
And yet the thing that’s just destroying me right now is my cat. Physical distance is probably part of it – once I get to Connecticut and see my aunt it’ll probably hit me a lot harder.
But right now, just listening to the clacking of the keyboard and the cracking of the furnace, I miss the crunching of cat food and the yowling at the possum or the other cats that sneak onto the patio.
This is going to be a loooooooong week. Updates on all fronts as I have them.