Cat story I

Some weeks ago I decided to take my two cats to the vet for a check-up. They have been healthy for the six years that have passed since they were castrated. It was due to the fact that I had watched too many tv-programs about vets, and they always look into the mouths of the animals they are treating. I never did, which made me feel like a bad person.

So then I did and I could see that the little one had a bad tooth in the corner of the mouth, but since the kitties have never been apart I decided to take the big one too. She’s not actually big, she’s just taller. And it’s funny, the little one weighs 4.45 kg’s and the “big” one 4.5 kg’s. 50 grams apart.

I borrowed a cage from a friend (last time they were small enough to fit into one) and surprised them both. That went fine apart from the miaowing during transportation that nearly broke my heart.

So off we went to see the same vet as six years ago. That went ok, they are used to handle all sorts of smaller pets, so even though my cats are extremely shy (especially the big one) they managed it.

The little one had such a bad tooth (oh deary me, what a bad cat-owner I am!) that it came out almost immediately when the vet fiddled about in her mouth. However, the taller cat got an appointment two days later. One of her teeth had grown abnormally long and had an infection going so she was scheduled to have it out. That’s when the problems began.