Sunday, February 13, 2011

If I find a gray hair in the next few months, I'm blaming the cats.

The last few days have been interesting, to say the least.

Cataclysm (the one who didn't have surgery) is afraid of the Kitty Cone of Shame. This means that every time Catastrophe goes near him, he freaks out and hisses at her, and then either runs away or swats at her. Catastrophe, who has spent the better part of the weekend stoned out of her gourd on painkillers, hasn't been too upset by this. She's too busy laying on things and cuddling with us to notice how weird her brother's been acting.

(Speaking of weird, Catastrophe letting us hold her? And cuddling? Yeah. She's really high.)

So while I guess it's good that Catastrophe seems to be coping well, her hatred of taking her medication notwithstanding, I'm sort of worried about Cataclysm. We've been keeping them separated when we're not around to supervise them just in case, but when they are around, he still acts like a jerk. She's had it on for three days now, and he hasn't gotten any better about it. We still have another week from tomorrow-ish of her wearing it, and I'm really not enthused about having to constantly run interference between the two of them. I'm also afraid he'll continue to act all hostile and antsy around her even after the cone comes off. That would be bad.

Catastrophe is going back to the vet tomorrow to have the IV port removed and her staples checked. Hopefully, we'll get a good report.

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