At 5am Wednesday morning Sally had another constipation episode, and still wasn't Herself by 8am, so I got the Bad Box out of the garage (Sukey saw it and RAN!) and took Sally to the vet as a drop-off appointment. She did not need sedation for her radiograph, because she is sweet, and because her tummy floof has many kinds of mats in the same way the Inuit have many kinds of snow, the nice vet tech offered to shave her from tail to chin.
Sally with no queenly ruff! Unbelievables.
The radiograph did not show Advanced Extreme Constipation, so the vet prescribed a mild diet and antibiotics for a few days. There was some comedy with the vet techs: "This should clear up her diarrhea–" "But she has the opposite of diarrhea–" I like my vet very much, except I do think he likes to Prescribe as opposed to Waiting to See What Happens, but Sally was rather pinched when she got home Wednesday, and is now bright eyed and willing to purr, so the antibiotics can't be hurting. I have also instituted a More Abstemious Regimen of Treats, which is probably doing the most good of all.
Unexpectedly, this episode brought a visit from Spooky Sukey.
Spooky Sukey is the Sukey the vet sees, the cat who comes out when Sukey goes away. She hisses. She hides. She whaps. She is unreachable by voice or touch. In past visits, Spooky Sukey has gone away by dinner, but this time she was with us from Wednesday night, when Sally came home, to Friday morning, when I gave her some catnip, which seemed to calm everything down…I thought about feeding her one of her Travel Pills but figured I'd lose a finger, and maybe an eye. Right now Sukey is napping on the box under my desk and allowed a respectful pet, so I think she's okay now.