 Snaggletooth |
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Just when you thought it was safe to go home! Poor Marley got her vaccinations yesterday (significantly fewer than Khaki, who'll you recall to my perturbation [perturbment?] received about 8,000 more shots than needed for an indoor cat) and is hobbling around as if in slow motion. She's eating, and she just used the litter box, but last night she had an epic puke in the bathroom, which is unlike her, and even more unlike her, she sat there staring at the barf morosely until I came to clean it up instead of hiding and pretending that it wasn't hers, and lay still the entire night on my legs instead of participating in at least some of Khaki's dawn circus revelry, which is also unlike her, and now just seems really unsteady on her feet. She did none of her routine morning activities, like jumping out of bed to scratch on her cardboard thingie or follow me into the bathroom and headbutt my knees in the hopes for attention as I took my morning tinkle or sprinting to her foodbowl when it was filled. Mostly, she just kind of limped. I called the vet, of course, and the assistant said that her cat always barfs after shots and it takes her a good 2-3 days to get back to normal. I mean, that's great and all, but of course, I am still concerned, because at times like this, all I can do is think, "My baby, MY BABY!"  But that's not even the biggest news around here. Oh no. Last night Daisy and I were having our regular wrestling match that accompanies my trimming her claws down from daggers of death to a normal length. Well, she was not having it, and she snapped up her head in the attempt to escape my feeble grasp, and her face smashed into mine in the process. Namely, her teeth smashed into my teeth. And guess who apparently has the stronger teeth? That's right. My dog. Picture your two front teeth. Now picture the tooth immediately to the right of your right front tooth. Now picture the little space where they meet. That space is now significantly larger than it used to be. It looks like a tiny mouse came and took a nibble out of corner of my tooth. I HAVE A CHIPPED TOOTH. I am a snaggletooth. I did not know whether to laugh or cry. Somehow I reigned in the hysteria and looked at Daisy to see if she was okay, and she was happily munching on the rawhide I had given her to try and distract her from the trimming affair, so I guess she is fine. I even checked on her claws to make sure I had not hurt her so badly to incite the head snap that she was bleeding to death. But no. No blood, no tooth chips, nothing. (Except, of course, for mine.) The fun never stops at Chez Eliza.
© Copyright 2004 elb |
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