Home alone 2
Well after every party there is a hangover. But this time it wasn’t me…….Dr. P was away on a business trip last week and once again trusted Indy and me to stay home alone....... That usually means bit of chaos at home and a few illegal activites (see photo).
On the first night of freedom I met my friend Lady P for sneaky beers (on a work night!). On the way home I smelt fish and chips and found myself stopping by for takeaway fish and chips. When I got home, Indy and I shared fish and chips on the sofa. I didn’t like the fish very much so Indy got most of it. We both thoroughly enjoyed ourselves while watching Friends.
In the morning Indy did not wake me up as usual, to tell the truth I was a bit relieved as it meant a little bit more sleep. Feeling energetic, I went to the gym. When I got back I couldn’t find Indy. I looked everywhere. I was starting to panic, had she fallen under something, was she stuck? I called her, there was no response. I shook her candy, no response. I looked under the bed, on the chairs, behind the sofa while shaking the candy and calling her. Indy was nowhere to be seen.
Finally I moved a duvet (comforter) and it felt heavy. Underneath was Indy, but she hardly moved. She got up looked at me and went on her way. She did not catapult across the room like usual. I tried to give her candy and she refused. She looked pretty rough. I started to worry. I took her outside and ran with her favourite toy expecting her to chase me as usual. She just looked at me and went inside and lay down, not looking very happy. She wouldn’t drink any water (even when presented to her in a glass....) and she hadn’t touched breakfast.
So I decided to take her to the vet. I phoned them up and got an appointment. She went in her cat carrier without much problem and then just sat there looking at me. In the car she cried a little, which I was actually relieved to hear. If she hd the energy to cry she couldn't be too bad.
The vet gave her a check-up. Felt her intestines, listened to her heart, weighed her etc etc. Then she wanted to put a thermometer up poor pussy cat’s bottom. Indy did not enjoy that but did not complain much.
Apparently her temperature was a little high and cats can feel quite bad from that. The vet asked if I wanted her to test the urine but Indy and I decided we would see how she was doing tomorrow before taking any drastic measures. So then we went home.
And then suddenly Indy decided she felt fine (I guess it was the thermometer up the bottom that did it). I gave her a sweet and she swiped her paw and wolfed it down as normal and then she had three more. She had a taste of her breakfast and was following me around like usual.
So it turns out that I took the cat to the vet and all that was wrong with her was she was just really full from the deep fried fish she had eaten the evening before. She wasn't moving or reacting because she felt like Garfield after 3 helpings of lasagne. And this diagnosis cost me 40 pounds……..
So we may have learnt our lesson. You can’t just have a party without suffering the day after…. We both admitted that we can't be trusted to stay home alone. And in the future when Dr.P is away, we promise to eat vegetables and whiskas until she gets back.
In the morning Indy did not wake me up as usual, to tell the truth I was a bit relieved as it meant a little bit more sleep. Feeling energetic, I went to the gym. When I got back I couldn’t find Indy. I looked everywhere. I was starting to panic, had she fallen under something, was she stuck? I called her, there was no response. I shook her candy, no response. I looked under the bed, on the chairs, behind the sofa while shaking the candy and calling her. Indy was nowhere to be seen.
Finally I moved a duvet (comforter) and it felt heavy. Underneath was Indy, but she hardly moved. She got up looked at me and went on her way. She did not catapult across the room like usual. I tried to give her candy and she refused. She looked pretty rough. I started to worry. I took her outside and ran with her favourite toy expecting her to chase me as usual. She just looked at me and went inside and lay down, not looking very happy. She wouldn’t drink any water (even when presented to her in a glass....) and she hadn’t touched breakfast.
So I decided to take her to the vet. I phoned them up and got an appointment. She went in her cat carrier without much problem and then just sat there looking at me. In the car she cried a little, which I was actually relieved to hear. If she hd the energy to cry she couldn't be too bad.
The vet gave her a check-up. Felt her intestines, listened to her heart, weighed her etc etc. Then she wanted to put a thermometer up poor pussy cat’s bottom. Indy did not enjoy that but did not complain much.
Apparently her temperature was a little high and cats can feel quite bad from that. The vet asked if I wanted her to test the urine but Indy and I decided we would see how she was doing tomorrow before taking any drastic measures. So then we went home.
And then suddenly Indy decided she felt fine (I guess it was the thermometer up the bottom that did it). I gave her a sweet and she swiped her paw and wolfed it down as normal and then she had three more. She had a taste of her breakfast and was following me around like usual.
So it turns out that I took the cat to the vet and all that was wrong with her was she was just really full from the deep fried fish she had eaten the evening before. She wasn't moving or reacting because she felt like Garfield after 3 helpings of lasagne. And this diagnosis cost me 40 pounds……..
So we may have learnt our lesson. You can’t just have a party without suffering the day after…. We both admitted that we can't be trusted to stay home alone. And in the future when Dr.P is away, we promise to eat vegetables and whiskas until she gets back.
posted by Aileen at 5:26 AM
1 Comments:
We miss the updates. Would love to hear about the Middle Eastern adventures, new move and blushing new environs. Sending you much love and Christmas greetings..... take care and big hug to Dr. P.
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