Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Roy the Stupid Cat

Roy the Stupid Cat peed on my leg tonight as I was attempting to hold him for the vet (who makes housecalls). When I felt the warm wetness on my jeans, I dropped the cat and yelled and stomped upstairs. Stupid cat!

The vet, my calm friend of twenty-plus years, said that peeing is the cat's last defense.

But I didn't hate Roy the Stupid Cat any less.

While I found clean pants, my vet friend quietly moved aside my son's bed to get at the cat and managed to pry her (yes, Roy the Stupid Cat is a female) mouth open and pop the pill in. My vet friend rocks.

After all the drama, we ate Mexican food and compared stories of our dad's deaths and funerals and wondered how it can be possible that we are forty. Then we promised not to wait another year before getting together again.

And when I got home, my husband was cleaning up cat poop and cat vomit and hating cats in general almost as much as I hate Roy the Stupid Cat specifically. Stupid cat.

(Edited to add: We have three cats. They all needed their routine vaccinations and flea treatments and *blech* as it turned out, pills for tapeworms.)

8 Comments:

Blogger Ginger said...

I've collected my share of stupid cats in my lifetime, as well. Luckily Moca (our current feline) broke the mold.

What's wrong with Roy? Veterinarically, I mean.

6:17 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I believe, also kept from us, secreted away lo all these many centuries, the secret Eleventh Circle of Hell. The text has since been discovered at a garage sale behind a reproduction of 'Dogs Playing Poker.'

In the 11th circle you actually think you might not be dead. Everything seems 'normal' but then you wake up and do the 'sniff', you know the 'sniff'. The 'I think I smell cat pee sniff'. And you do smell it. It's on your pillow and you go 'ewwwwwww cat pee!' and you jump out of bed only to smell it on your bathroom towels and in the rug and on the couch and you walk outside and it's on the potted plants and it drives you INSANE!

That Dante...always thinking about new ways to torture the unpure.

Elizabeth

6:51 AM  
Anonymous mopsy said...

I threw the word "stupid" at our dog last week when she pooped on our son's bed. But I took it back.

I admire anyone who makes housecalls.

8:05 AM  
Blogger Eyes said...

Awe...poor cat. I hope she is okay :)

8:47 AM  
Blogger Judy said...

We have a male cat named Barb. Maybe they would like to trade name?

Barb costs us $500 the very first summer he weaseled his way into our house (and hearts).

It also costs us the embarrassment of having the vet know we couldn't tell a male from a female.

Poor Roy.

Poor Mel.

1:34 PM  
Anonymous Meredith said...

Since our move to this old house in Okinawa we have many a cat visitors sniffing around. That is my fault. I can't figure out the damn trash schedule and none of the Japanese pamphlets are any real help unless there are pictures. So I leave the trash out in the humid evenings and cats from afar flock. Scary, homeless cats. Cats no one is making housecalls for. I pity them but can't bring myself to touch them.

And that is what came to mind. I hope Roy-girl heals.

Also my husband works here which is why the move since you asked.

4:16 PM  
Blogger sallyrogers said...

A girl named Roy.... makes me think of Green Acres and Ralph the contractor.

11:38 AM  
Blogger Feeble Knees said...

Could be worse. When meeting her for the first time Friday night, my son chose to honor her by shooting poo out his diaper into her lap.

It can always be worse... :)

8:20 AM  

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