Saturday, September 5, 2009

Ernie's feeling sickly. I went out searching for him last night and found him curled up on the lawn mower seat in the barn. What self respecting cat in the prime of his life sleeps at night? Certainly not our Ernie Pantusso. I brought him in and he ate a little but he was just so lethargic. So this morning John and I forewent our Trader Joes and Whole Foods excursion and took Ernie to the vet instead. We're glad we did. Because our boy has himself a temp. of 105. She sent us home with Amoxil and told us to come back Tuesday if he's not any better. So really it could be anything. My personal and unprofessional opinion is either allergies or a sinus infection as his nose started oozing a little bloody mucus while he was with the vet. Tasty, I know. But this is what I'm dealing with here people. He's sleeping under the bed right now. I know this because I'm in there on my stomach every 15 minutes shining a flashlight into his squinting little eyeballs, making sure he's breathing and not paws up.

In an aside, our vet is a fruitloop. Not certifiable or anything but still... she's a wackadoo. She's terrific with animals. I mean, like freakishly good with animals. But her people skills are unique to say the least. Also, her waiting room is always filled with an awesome array of folks and their familiars. Today we saw a husband and wife who together couldn't have tipped the scales at 225, being dragged by their enormous Rhodesian Ridgeback. There was also a chocolate Lab whose fur looked exactly like a velour blanket and a wonderful older lady who had her very shy cat in a large white box with the lid being held in place by two antique cast irons. She said she uses the box for her 'felt squares'. It even had a post-it note on it that said 'felt squares'. John and I are kicking ourselves for not getting a picture.

Keep Ernie in your thoughts, ya'll.

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