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apocalypsosI stopped up the house yesterday to pick up cat food and was talking to my mother in the living room when I noticed one of the cats, Spencer, contorting his pudgy rolypoly body to, well, lick himself.
The entire time I'm talking to my mom, he's licking himself. Continually. I made a crack about that scene in The Long Kiss Goodnight where Brian Cox watches a dog licking himself and says something about how he's been doing it for two hours and by now whatever it is is long gone or there to stay, which my mom didn't appreciate.
Five minutes later, Spencer got up and went into the dining room. And went back to licking.
By now, I've figured out something is not right. So I go over and pick him up to find a bare patch of skin about the size of a half-dollar to the left of his rear with what basically amounts to a small round hole in his skin that looked like he'd been poked with a particularly sharp knitting needle. It was NOT pretty.
My mom proceeded to get snippy with me while she tried to fix things, so I got my dad for her and got the heck out of Dodge. She called me this morning to tell me that after talking to the vet, his theory is that one of the other cats probably bit him -- having seen this, I don't even want to imagine how vicious the fight must have been, seriously, and considering it's one hole and only one cat with one tooth we already know the culprit -- and the bite then became abscessed. Which, EW. I can only imagine how much that hurt, poor thing.
So now the cat and I are both on amoxicillin. Heh.
EDIT: Also, I keep forgetting to mention that the highway that I drive to work on is frequented by a flock of turkeys, so I'm starting to develop a tendency to just expect an enormous picture-of-Thanksgiving turkey to be standing on the side of the road watching me drive me past. I see the same damn turkey at least once a week.
It makes me crave sweet potatoes, quite frankly.
The entire time I'm talking to my mom, he's licking himself. Continually. I made a crack about that scene in The Long Kiss Goodnight where Brian Cox watches a dog licking himself and says something about how he's been doing it for two hours and by now whatever it is is long gone or there to stay, which my mom didn't appreciate.
Five minutes later, Spencer got up and went into the dining room. And went back to licking.
By now, I've figured out something is not right. So I go over and pick him up to find a bare patch of skin about the size of a half-dollar to the left of his rear with what basically amounts to a small round hole in his skin that looked like he'd been poked with a particularly sharp knitting needle. It was NOT pretty.
My mom proceeded to get snippy with me while she tried to fix things, so I got my dad for her and got the heck out of Dodge. She called me this morning to tell me that after talking to the vet, his theory is that one of the other cats probably bit him -- having seen this, I don't even want to imagine how vicious the fight must have been, seriously, and considering it's one hole and only one cat with one tooth we already know the culprit -- and the bite then became abscessed. Which, EW. I can only imagine how much that hurt, poor thing.
So now the cat and I are both on amoxicillin. Heh.
EDIT: Also, I keep forgetting to mention that the highway that I drive to work on is frequented by a flock of turkeys, so I'm starting to develop a tendency to just expect an enormous picture-of-Thanksgiving turkey to be standing on the side of the road watching me drive me past. I see the same damn turkey at least once a week.
It makes me crave sweet potatoes, quite frankly.
