Poor Mr. Harry. He seems to have a bunch of hairballs, which he seems unable to pass by throwing up. So instead he throws up food. Usually a discreet amount, once a day.
But still, more than enough to merit a trip to the vet. Neither Harry nor I do well at the vet. His nose and tongue turn bright dark pink, he hisses like a mad cat, growls like a small orange bear, and bats menacingly (with claws retracted, though). As for me, I stand in the corner, my knees shaking uncontrollably while Kelly helps the vet.
End result: Harry has a new laxative to help him out, and my VISA bill is a little higher this month. Here's hoping that does the trick.
2 comments:
I hope Harry is feeling better. Sometimes i take Cali and Tucker to the vet at the same time. Cali goes into denial and becomes completly limp in my arms. Tucker won't sit still and yelps whenever the vet touches him...even when there is nothing hurting....what an adventure.
Our darling ball of fur suffered one brief day of depression, thinking the nesting doves had deserted him. No so, the babies have flown the coop and they've started on the next batch. So much for "breeding like rabbits"! Anyway, Gray is happy is enterainment is back.
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