I had a lot in my plate Friday. After a busy morning, I decided I needed to run home and eat something. And that’s when the productivity ended.
You see, as I was blending my smoothie I looked down and noticed Oliver licking his backside. And I noticed the bright magenta patch of glowing ouchiness at the base of his tail. And the world came to a screeching halt.
If you’ve ever had a male cat you’ve been warned about the dangers of urinary tract infections. How they can become serious very quickly. How they can be deadly if complications arise.
This is why I was on the floor, wrestling with my 14 pound cat so I could look at his butt.
Oddly, he was less than cooperative.
Since it was Friday afternoon, I decided to call Doctor Tiffany and have her check him out just in case. If nothing else he could get a shot for his allergies. And I could avoid a possible emergency visit over the weekend.
And it turned out fine. He got a shot for his allergies which is a probable cause for his itchy bottom (not anything near his boy bits). He got a shot for the infection he’d licked his way into. And he got his annual exam that was coming due anyway – two more shots. All of that he tolerated while sitting in my lap, doing his best imitation of a mean cat.
But, just to make sure there was no hidden issue, Doctor T wanted to probe his anal glands. She told me that even though this was all going to happen in the outside – unlike in dogs – Oliver was not going to be happy.
Indeed, unhappy is what Oli was.
I held him close and ignored the toe nails digging into my side – I guess he felt he needed traction. Oliver yelled out his objections. And Obi came to lick his brother’s face in comfort.
Then it was done.
Doctor Tiffany got out treats to reward Obi for being such a good brother. She tossed one to Oliver where he was bathing himself angrily. He ate it.
“That’s the closest you’ll ever get to him on his free will,” I said.
“Challenge accepted,” she said.
It took five treats to lure the grey kitten back into the living room and close enough that she could pet him while he ate. Glad I didn’t lose any money on that bet.
After Tiffany left, I got some work done and Kitten Thunder took a nap. By Saturday morning there was no sign of any infection, except that I can’t really call Oli Fuzzy Butt – one of his nicknames – until the five inch bald spot he created starts to grow back in.
We watched Reign and didn’t talk about how long MY wounds (five or six long scratches in my side) will take to heal.
Oliver loves Reign.