SassyBlonde

I'm not saying you have to, but that's certainly what I'll be doing from now on.

When a student brings you flowers, of course the proper response is to thank them politely and put them in water. At least, that is, unless you have a cat.

Well, yesterday a student of mine brought me a beautiful bouquet of Asiatic lilies-- one of my favorite smells in the world and an exquisite gift. Until I moved them down onto the table today for a minute to clean the counter and our lovely little spazball cat decided they'd make a really, really great dinner.

I came into the living room to the sounds of retching and the sight of the tattered remains of the flower leaves strewn on the table. The poor cat was turning himself inside out on the carpet, but quickly finished up and seemed none the worse for wear. However, having read about the effects of lilies before, I called the vet's office and they told me to take him to the emergency vet ASAP, so I bundled his still frolicking furball self into the cat carrier and made off with him to the nearest reputable emergency vet clinic, which was still 45 minutes away. (I ask you-- what the hell happens when your cat gets attacked by some random dog down here? You have to schlepp it that far? That's just so wrong.)

Well, I checked him into the clinic and waited, and waited. The vet came in and explained that they'd be inducing more vomiting and checking his kidney levels and keeping him on an IV drip for fluids to help try and stave off possible renal failure, and said that she'd be back in a minute with a quote. And when she came back I thought I was going to have a coronary.

His encounter with a five dollar bunch of flowers will now be costing me more money than you can possibly imagine, not that I care as I'd just really like to have him back in one functioning piece.

Not that I balked longer than it took me to total up exactly how I would make this happen (to which I had no answer) since I love the little spaz and I couldn't very well leave him to expire of renal failure (it's a very, very bad way to go.) And I still don't know what the outcome is going to be-- even though I caught it early, all of the intelligence I've been able to find suggests that he MAY PROBABLY survive... not WILL. Poor little squirt.

I think it's drinky-drink time for Sassy, because I don't want to think about what the possible outcomes of this might be. I'm hereby sworn off from the internet until I hear how my little blondie's doing, because here's a whole lotta scary shit out there about this subject, and the internets is giving me the crying jags. I'll post Twitter updates as I hear more.