Not What He Had in Mind

 

Even wearing a spiffy tuxedo isn't much help when your tummy's upset. Dear Mr. Moo occasionally throws up a meal. It's not hairball-related and it's not normal. He seems to recover quickly, meaning it's not urgent, but I promised myself that the next time it happened, I would get him checked out. That day finally arrived.

As I explained to the vet, Mr. Moo came with the house when I bought it. He supervised a large swath of the neighborhood -- I would see him in other people's yards up and down the block -- but he soon began (resumed?) spending most of his time on my screened porch (when I left the door open for him). 

Unfortunately, his supervisory duties also included fighting with other cats. More than once that meant wounds and abscesses. It wasn't long before I decided to treat the problem instead of the results, and closed the door. He adapted very well to staying on the porch and using the litter box. 

I sit out there with him quite a bit and we keep an eye on the bird feeder together. He has a cozy house and a warming bed with a gel pad that I heat up in the microwave when the nights get chilly. He's learned that if he snuggles on my lap, I'm likely to rub his belly, which makes all things good in his world -- he purrs and kneads and drools -- and mine.

The biggest holdover from his roaming days is that he is extremely shy of strangers. Any visitors can maybe look at him through the kitchen window, but that's all. Given that shyness, a trip to the vet was not at all how he wanted to spend his day. He hated it even more than most cats do. But he was darling, even when frightened, and charmed everyone with his mustache!

The vet thinks he has acid reflux, so he will be getting fish oil to calm his tummy. He also has pretty bad teeth. A dental cleaning has been scheduled. I'm not crazy about the idea, but I recognize that it needs to be done. Then maybe his tummy will be happier, too.