Cat Vomit and other fun stuff

Attila may vomit on our bed, but he is
definitely our best cuddle kitty. 

As far as emergencies go, Chef and I have thankfully been spared for the most part. However, there seems to be something about our comforter that says "Have a cat emergency HERE!". Mila took a crap right in the middle of it (while Chef and I were sleeping in the bed, no less) which got her banned from the bedroom for almost a year before she was allowed back in. And rightfully so. No one likes to wake up to the smell of feces.

Yesterday, Attila decided to vomit on my side of the comforter. The poor kitty has been vomiting up everything he's eaten for the last two days which means in our world means unplanned vet visit time! Hooray. I also got to see the inside of a lovely LA laundromat because our comforter is too big for our washers in the complex. Instead of brunch and mimosas, I had Diet Dr Pepper and a book while waiting for it to wash.

Anyway, hope he's better today. This is yet another reason that I may not be cut out for parenthood. Too many bodily fluids.

Kitty Prozac

It sucks being the only girl some time. I know because for a good while I was the only girl amongst a plethora of boy cousins. And while it had it's advantages (I got Air Jordans and camo one Christmas like the boys and LOVED IT), it also had some disadvantages.

It is in this spirit that I know that Mila has to be needing some feminine feline time. Not that we're getting another kitty any time soon, but she has been and continues to be skiddish. So much so that she's started thinking outside of the box. And by thinking, I mean pooping. There's no better start than waking up to the smell of god awful and having to pick it up by the handful (albeit a fully covered hand). And by better, I mean worse.

After a month of pretty consistent litter box aversion, we took Mila to an LA vet. The month was my fault. Chef asked me on several occasions to find a vet and make an appointment. This has always been one area that I've handled. What's tricky is finding a vet that has good word of mouth AND is in the vicinity AND is open on weekends (I work so far away that it doesn't work to trek Mila or any of our furry friends out this far). However, thank God for yelp, because it helped me find all three PLUS they even make house calls. How sweet is that??

We went on Saturday to see if there was anything physically wrong with Mila. Not only was the vet super nice and took his time explaining what could be the causes (and even ignored a pushy patient in the waiting room to do so), but he was also hot. Not that Chef really cares about that, but it was definitely a perk. And by hot, I mean several days worth of stubble on the face kind of hot. That impractical hot because you KNOW that stubble hurts like heck to get kissed from but it sure is nice to look at. (He was also married).

But I digress. From hotness to her highness, as apparently there's nothing physically wrong with Mila (which we breathed a sigh of relief about). She's just a nervous cat who gets harassed by the guys. We're trying homeopathic remedies and changing her diet before we go the medication route...which is PROZAC. They don't make a special kitty prozac so she would literally be getting the same thing as a human. Just less of it. That weirds me out a little.

After this news, we made a trip to the pet store and spent some hard earned cash on the kitties. It was time they all got an upgrade. A soothing diffuser to Mila, a water fountain for Khubla, a tunnel and new litter box for them all. They got hooked up.

Not only that, but Chef has even allowed two of them re-entry into our bedroom at night: Mila (because she's skiddish and gets picked on A LOT at night) and Attila (because Mila cries very loudly if he's not in there with her). So far, so good. A few nights in and she's already using the litter box again. We'll see how long this lasts. . .

Vetin' Ain't Easy

On Friday, Chef and I took two of our cats to the vet. Mila and Attila got their first taste of shots, Nashville style. How that would differ from the style they got them in their old hometown, I'm not quite sure, but I like the sound of it better.

The thing about the vet is that we try to hide our cat mania to a certain extent. We don't tend to gush too much or elaborate about their personalities, but instead come prepared with intelligent questions. This time went much better than the last time, that's for sure.

The last time we visited the vet, we got a vet who we were told loved cats. Being that Genghis is a Pixie Bob and polydactyl, he tends to get a lot of attention. We had come in for shots and decided against getting one of them. When I was explaining our position to the vet, she was appalled that we would rather take our advice from many testimonials than her veterinary education and year or so of practice. I told her that I would take her advice if she did a little research on our breed of cat before making a recommendation, but that just pissed her off more. It was a showdown the likes of which I'm sure will be repeated in doctor's offices for our future children. Needless to say, we have a different vet within the same clinic now.

The cats are healthy and thriving. And we got a solution that seems to be working for Mila's poop problem. Nothing says love like clenaing up piles of turds from carpet. At least the carpet is brown too.