Life is better with a cat?

You guys all know I have a cat. I’ve talked about her here and here. And, despite all those stories, I love her. Like lurrrrve her love her. Like hate her lurrrve her love her.

But, she’s not without her issues. We “joke” all the time that we’re going to get rid of her whenever she pulls her shenanigans (aka peeing on the floor, peeing on the carpet, peeing on the wall, pooping on the carpet [right next to the litter box, btw], vomiting on the floor, vomiting on the carpet, hissing or swatting at every single person who walks in our door). In a nutshell, being a cat.

But, as I said, we love her. She’s been with us for 14 years now and we’re beginning to wonder how much longer she’ll be with us. We recently renovated our kitchen, so you can imagine how that might have gone over with our anxiety-ridden kitty.

Read: not well.

She’s been acting kind of funny lately. Cries a lot, not really eating much and basically being a real pain in the ass with the pooping and peeing.

So, we took her to the vet yesterday. Because she’s anxious, it never goes well. So, they thought they’d sedate her to examine her.

The vet: How far are you willing to take this?

Me [to myself]: Is she really asking me if I want to treat the cat? Isn’t that why I came?

Me [out loud]: Well, I want to know what’s wrong with her.

Vet: OK, great. We’ll get started then.

That made me wonder. Do most owners come in and say, “I only want to treat if it’s the $20 special”?

I get it. Treatment can be expensive. Especially for a furry friend who may or may not have spent years trying to kill you by sleeping around your neck.

But, I like to pretend think that she does it because she loves me, so we went ahead with the sedation.

After her exam, the vet told me she looks good, but that she is constipated.

Constipated, really?

We know constipation in our house. My son has spent years suffering from it; I, myself, have had these issues. It now makes me wonder if she’s trying too hard to be a part of this family or if maybe we need to check our water.

Anyway, the treatment for constipation in cats is… Miralax. Just like with humans. She gave us some Miralax to take home (which, no need, I get the industrial-sized bottles, but hey, free Miralax!). She sent us on our way, with the warning that Zoe would be a little woozy for a while, so don’t let her play on the steps.

Noted.

For the rest of the day/evening, I watched her like a hawk. She definitely was out of it, almost comically so. Her eyes were glazed, she couldn’t close her mouth, and when she wasn’t walking sideways, she was staring at the walls for hours on end. Funny not funny.

This morning, her meows are back. She’s no longer walking sideways, but she’s certainly not very forgiving. She would walk towards me, but then remember she was comatose yesterday because of me and give me the cold shoulder.

I suppose the cold shoulder is better than the furry neck. At least I’m alive.