nabeepchen

Who cares about polio and iron lungs, and deadly germs. Today was a major cat-astrophe–my sweet, beloved, totally crazed and spoiled beyond comprehension cat Eponine had to go to the vet. Diagnosis? An ingrown toenail.

I really couldn’t believe it. How does an active little spitfire, who is always sharpening her feet, get an ingrown nail? True, it is near impossible to clip her nails, but still. The vet agreed. She never sees ingrown nails, except on very old and/or sick cats, that don’t move around much.

So the plot thickens. The “sick toe” set me back $91.83. Next, because it’s an open wound, she needs special litter–anything but the normal clay kind. The vet recommended these silica crystals, which are quite popular and are supposed to absorb odors, don’t need to be changed very often (except to scoop the poop out), and scatter less. So two bags of crystals (actually, I think they’re gold plated), at a total of $20.00.

Now the plot really thickens. Eponine (better known as the Nish) comes home smelling like the vet’s office. My other cat, Cosette (yes, they are named after the characters in Les Miserables) is freaked out and goes hiding under the kitchen sink. Six hours later, she is still there, having made a brief appearance to eat her dinner. Eponine seems fine, paw-wise, but refuses to use her fancy new litter. She is walking around screaming, going over to the litter box, screaming a little more. She’s got to go, but won’t use it.

I’m taking two valium and going to bed.