Adventures in vetrinary medicine

So last night I took the might Zeus to the vet for his annual vaccinations. Even getting there was quite an adventure. A very long tram ride with loud Italians and a decent wait in the vets office. The whole time, Zeus was unflappable. Not a meow, not a protest. We got in to see the vet, where we discovered that the great grey one needs to go on a big of a diet. It's been decided that he should be a 5 kg cat. I like him as a 6 kg cat, but I'm not a vet, so diet it is.

Despite a predispoition to gum disease (the cat eats the crunchiest food he can, yet still gets grumpy gums), and a appointment for a dental cleaning (I can't believe I'm taking my cat to the dentist) Zeus is in good form. Or at least he was. After another tram ride home, where he was very good tempered, he tried to settle down at home. It seemed, however, that despite his efforts to be normal Zeus, he was pretty freaked out by the whole experience. Which lead to a lot of odd behavior and itching and vomiting. Basically my cat had a panic attack. And, being the hysterical cat owner that I am, I promptly called a cab and haulled ass back to the vet, thinking he was having some sort of horrible allergic reaction. And of course, he wasn't. But the vet gave him something to prevent a reaction and to calm him down. We made our way back home, and he's been Zeus-y ever since. Granted he's refused to cuddle with me, since the incident, as it was all clearly my fault.

This experience has strengthend my resolve not to have children. I was a so nervous and so upset, debating how I could tell everyone in Canada that I'm not coming home because I have to watch the cat, getting up in the middle of the night to be sure that he was okay. There's just no way I could mentally handle a child. the possibility of my cat being sick is heartbreaking enough. Kids would just kill me.

HRH