Abbie's sick

This morning I had to take Abbie to the vet, which meant stuffing her into her carry crate. She doesn’t go willingly, but grows twelve legs all of a sudden and they’re all flailing and slashing at the same time. I’m battle scarred.

Anyway. Abbie is still at the vet until they catch a urine sample. She probably has a urinary tract infection and just needs antibiotic. I’m not hearing anything else in the unspoken words or the vet’s voice, so I am assuming that’s the problem. One gets plenty nervous when kitty starts peeing blood.

Abbie was terrified of the big cage they put her in. Her eyes were as huge as saucers and she gave me that “Save me, mama!!!” look. I felt so sorry for her. I also hope she forgives me sometime in the next week.

The vet will call when Abbie can come home. It was a sign of the new era when the vet’s office assistant asked me for my cell phone number rather than a home or work number. People probably do tend to answer their cell phones more dependably than the other two, but I’m still not used to being asked for a cell phone number.

Now if it would just ring. Abbie needs to come home for a good long cuddle.