Obi went in for his annual exam and shots yesterday. It didn’t involve the drama of a trip with Oliver, but Obi is learning to put up a little bit of fight.
He would not go into the carrier so I had to shove him in a decidedly undignified manner. It used to be I could just open the door and he’d go in to explore. He has also started to cry a little bit in the car – clearly Oliver has told him the car is a terrifying place to be.
Dr. Healey saw us. When asked if I had any concerns I told her that Obi seems thin to me. She told me that Obi is a perfectly healthy weight. Evidently Oliver’s assertion that you should not be able to feel where ribs are is mistaken. Apparently my grey kitten is more than adequately fluffy under the skin.
Moving on to shots, well, Obi doesn’t know he got them. He thinks the doctor just likes to pinch his shoulders.
I was left in the exam room while Obi and Tiff went for a weigh in. He has actually lost some weight. Is Oliver controlling about food? Do bears pee in the woods? Breakfast is the only time during the day that I am certain Oliver is still the alpha male. Perhaps, Tiff suggests, Oli should be encouraged to share more of the breakfast.
I told this to Oliver. He says Tiff is a quack.
Honestly, I don’t think Obi is suffering too much. There is always a little bit of food left on their plates in the morning and he eats that later. Plus he has a never ending bowl of kitty crunchies. But her point is still valid.
This morning I put Obi’s breakfast in the kitchen instead of the breakfast nook. Having to walk ten feet drastically cut down on the breakfast dance that Kitten Thunder usually does.
Oliver was exhausted from the extra effort; I didn’t get my morning “thank you for having thumbs” snuggle.
Woe is me.