Hey, Look! It’s the Crazy Cat Blogger!

Yeah, I know. I was all, “I’m done writing about my cat for a while.” Turns out I’m a big fat liar.

I took Izzy to the vet last Friday and her bloodwork is much better than it had been. I think she’s doing really well. I mean, the vet is still filling out her insurance papers by giving her a 2/5 on her “body condition score” and keeps answering the question, “Was this accident or illness fatal?” with “not yet,” but I think she’s doing well.

It’s like she’s going out of her way to stab me in the heart.

Anyway, things are going well with the medicine and fluids I have to give her. Except, well, there is this medicine that the vet gave me that I was supposed to replace with an over the counter version when it ran out, but it turns out that the over the counter version is mint flavored and when I told the pharmacist that it was for a cat, he was all, “Well maybe the cat will like it and, hey, my girlfriend has a tattoo kinda like yours. Let’s talk about THAT instead.”

The pharmacist can compound the medicine with chicken flavoring (Aside: anyone else think it’s funny that the pharmacist has chicken flavoring?), but he needs a prescription. Until I get that prescription, poor little Izzy is going to have minty fresh breath.

Izzy really has been enjoying her special canned food, although she is still not hale enough to notice that she sometimes eats it four inches away from a cage of mice.

Izzy and her tiny black and white doppelgänger.

I only feed her there sometimes and that is only because when she came home from the vet hospital, she hunkered down in the corner of the kitchen counter behind Mouse Town. It was weird.

Now she wanders around all over the house, which is great because I think she feels better, but is bad because I can’t leave regular cat kibble out for Denali, my other cat, hereafter known as Hungry Angry Cat.

I can haz my goddamn fud?

Today the two of them kept me busy keeping them away from each other’s food. They both seemed hungry and I was working, so I put their respective bowls of food on the ground next to me.

Wow. Denali is two times bigger than Izzy—AND blends into the carpet.

The only problem was that Denali kept trying to eat Izzy’s food and Izzy kept trying to eat Denali’s food and I had to keep picking up food bowls and putting them on my desk depending on which cat would show up and meow at me.

I can haz Stimey as my bitch?

Seriously. The cats just went from being the easiest little beings in the house to the most labor intensive. Stupid lovable animals.

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