In the mews

On a little unrelated note: It snowed today, not a lot, but it did snow little chunky flakes this morning, making the roads slick and slowing traffic.

We have had cats for a while. And in the midst of me trying to explain that I have cats, but am not a "cat lady", we haven't had many health issues. Thank goodness, because each time we have anything of that sort, we both literally freak out and have no idea what to do, except take them to the vet, pay a bunch of money, haul them home and pray all is well.

Seems lately we have had a run of "incidents" and I suspect that is all part of an aging brood of cats. I dread all of this.

Our big male cat, Sammy, apparently has blood in his urine. I am not alarmed yet, as he's been treated for bladder stones previously and I suspect it's the same thing, but we need a different kinda treatment. I never thought I'd use that phrase in my real life, much less online: "blood in his urine". (By the way, I did not examine any urine or anything of the like, let's just say I found "evidence" and leave it at that.)

It's a neutered-male cat thing and I am certain if you have one of those you are aware of it, or should be. Sammy will make his way via a tote in a big white car today for a third exam and I am certain more antibiotics. He seems to like the drugs, however, so I am not sure he didn't stage this whole thing.

We have to find a solution for Skinny Freddy. For those of you that don't know, Skinny Freddy is sort of our outdoor cat and true to his name, he's painfully skinny. He's technically a stray that we feed, water, pet and provide a warm box. Actually he's not like stray at all.

Cynical believes he may have worms or some similar illness, so I think he's getting a trip to the vet today also. Bring on the vet bills! With impending cold temperatures and Cynical's heart that grows and grows and grows inside his chest each time he sees him*, we have to find him a home, preferably not ours.

We got this awful looking paste for Izzie's hairball issue. By awful, I mean it looks something like molded pecan pie filling. We have to put it on her paws and she immediately commences licking it off. She doesn't seem to mind, but it's very unpleasant for her owners.

So, you see, life at Chez Ragged is a little like a M*A*S*H unit right now, let's just hope I don't have to ask for a scapel.

*Just a little "Grinch" reference for ya.