I spoke too soon about Jincy being healthy enough for her spaying. I’m now so paranoid about her that I had them run a full CBC blood panel before putting her under anesthesia and apparently her liver numbers are twice what they should be. Now, this could be because she’s a growing little beastie (up to 5.5 pounds!) or it could be because of an infection or it could be that she still has parasites from the shelter (which she was treated for once already but apparently they lay eggs and eeuw, jesus, you get the picture, I don’t have to go on, do I?) and yadda yadda yadda no spaying but please give us $250 thank you. Well, it wasn’t completely for naught, as she did get her teenage kitten shots and also we realized that the little teeny carrier I bought by mistake was no longer going to hold our gangly teenager so we had to get a new fancy schmancy cat thingy. Well, we didn’t have to, but I had a bit of a temper tantrum in the pet store, wanting the same one that I had mistakenly purchased before, because it’s way nicer than the glorified cat lunch boxes that cost $50 anyway.
Another thing we’ve learned in the four months of tending our ward: those Soft Paws things? Jincy rises to the challenge and then defies them. If she doesn’t pull them straight off of the claws, she bites through the non-covered bit of the nail until she is able to chew them off. And then I assume she swallows them and they are slowly building up some kind of horrible blockage inside of her intestine. Needless to say, the leather sofa we bought less than six months ago? Well, it’s what the furniture biz likes to call distressed.
But look at that face! What a price to pay for such intense devotion. Not really, she was actually zeroing in to attack the strap on my camera. But let’s just pretend that she was going for artsy intrigue, shall we?
