Yesterday was the blackest of days on the kitty calendar: the trip to TEH VET.
Sukey, having distinguished herself in this area before, had a Happy Pill at 8:30. It kicked in at 10, in a blink, but it didn't actually make her happy, it just slowed her down a little.
She howled so much going into The Box of Doom that Sally came out to see what was the matter, which spoke well of her character but made her easy to catch.
The vet was a little late getting into our exam room–he said he had a cat with a ruptured disc and that Difficult Decisions Had to Be Made, which was sad to hear. Working with Sally seemed to cheer him up a bit, because she is pretty and healthy and squeeks when palpated.
Sally is 13.5 pounds and according to the vet's records 14 years old, though I'm not sure how accurate that is. Sukey is 6.5 years old but I didn't find out how much she weighs this time. When her box got lifted on the exam table you could hear her growl warming up like a car engine.
At the top of her chart is the word CAUTION!, with yellow highlighter. The vet and tech got enough of her out of the box to give her three shots POW! POW! POW! in her right flank and that was it. The rest of the day Sukey stalked around the house like Kitnego Montoya: YOU CAN HAS PREPARE TO DIES NAOW K THX. I had some friends over in the evening to watch THE GAME(s) but I warned them to leave her alone, and not try for pettingks. She did sit on the back of the couch after a while, but with her back to the room, to let everyone know I was still IN TRUBBLE.
These were just plain vanilla cupcakes with a (too) thin sugar glaze–one of my friends has a digestive disorder that as far as I can tell means she can only eat white food, so I was hoping she could have one, but she didn't. Two of my friends root for UNC, that's why there's blue sugar, but we've agreed to be polite about Monday. Go green go white!