I had to take my kitty to the vet yesterday. He has been struggling with a upper respiratory infection for awhile. I took him to the vet last month, and he got a dose of antibiotics. I thought that would be the end of it. Then, around Christmas he started coughing. I thought maybe he had eaten something or had a major hairball that he couldn’t get up. We waited for him to get better. He didn’t. When he started having a hard time breathing, I became nervous. Stupid cat.
So I broke down and took him to the vet. Again. I was already nervous when the vet came into the room. I had never met this vet before, and to say that she isn’t a people person is a bit of an understatement. Now, when I was in high school, I worked for a vet. It was an awesome job. The vet that I worked for was not a people person either. I thought that he didn’t like me, but in truth he just liked animals better. He was a very good vet, and we developed our relationship later. Vets don’t need to be understand people. They need to understand animals. So when this vet scolded me for not calling in to tell them how Toby’s first round of antibiotics worked, I didn’t take it personally. So she isn’t a people person. I don’t really care. She was concerned about Toby’s breathing and wanted to take an X-ray. “It is $105. Can you do that?” Yes.
While I was waiting on the results of the X-ray with Toby on my lap, I prayed that Toby did not have a tumor. Oh. My. Goodness. What if it is a tumor? What am I going to do? I love this kitty. He is the sweetest thing. We will never have a cat like Toby again. So his hair is all over the place. So I am tired of cleaning out his litter box. So he is the neediest cat on the planet. Darn it. I love him. I don’t want him to be sick.
How did this dumb cat make me love him so much?
The vet finally came back in. It is not a tumor. Thank God. It is bronchitis. We are going to try antibiotics again with prednisone. “But it isn’t going to work if you can’t get the meds down him,” she scolded me again. And so began my short lesson on how to get him to take meds. He is such a baby.
This is how he made me love him. (an oldie but goodie) He really is a sweet cat. We have had him for 9 years. It doesn’t seem that long. I didn’t intend to love him like I do. We got him for the kids, but he made me his favorite. Why do cats do that? Take the person that wants the least to do with them and own them? But everyone loves Toby because it is very hard not to love him. He forces himself on everyone who visits as if to say, “I am royalty. You will love me because I am soft and lovable. Now pet me.”
He is the best cat.
And I love him.