But I still didn't get time to post. I've been doing some much-needed cleaning around the house, and today I got to take my cat to the vet for her annual wellness physical, plus, as she is getting on in years, to get her senior checkup.
The vet said she was doing fine, and that she is not only in excellent physical health, but that she is excellently taken care of. That brought a little glow to my heart, as I love her immensely.
I finished up "Wind in the Stone" by Andre Norton, and "Star Wars: Death Star", and now I am reading a mystery called "Ben Franklin in a Case of Artful Murder" by Robert Lee Hall. I really only just started it, because despite taking it to the vet with me, reassuring Cleo made me unable to read too much of the book. Cleo, you see, yowls when she is frightened, and since she is a purely indoor cat, she gets frightened when we take her to the vet.
It's kind of like she knows that going in the cat carrier means a terrifying (for her) trip in the car, to a place like the vet, where she might get poked, prodded and stuck with needles (oh, the horrors!) or to the groomer's, where she gets brushed, her claws clipped, and her rear end area trimmed and groomed (As a long-haired cat, she is like James T. Kirk... lots of problems with Kling-ons).
She always throws up, but this time it was hardly anything. I really have to remember not to let her eat for about six hours before she goes out. This will prevent or minimze the vomiting. Needless to say, having it be so cold outside was not in her favor, either, even though she is a long-haired cat. At least she wasn't shivering, but the trip home was made with wet paws (because they cleaned her where she stepped in her own vomit). She appears to be recovering well, though, and is back to her usual treat-loving self.
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