Wasted Days, Wasted Nights

This is your cat on drugs.

Andy has been having "litter box issues" the past few days. Despite me repeatedly telling him that this really WASN'T the best time to be ill, he refused to listen. What the hell does he care, he's not unemployed and broke. So I had to make a decision. Sock yarn or a healthy cat, sock yarn or a healthy cat. To my surprise, a healthy cat won. I put a bunch of yarn up for sale on Ravelry and off we went to the vet today.

Dude, I think I hear the cops!

Now please bear in mind that the first six months of Andy's life were spent as a feral feline. He no likey being in a confined space. Like say, a cat carrier, for example. After thrashing around for a good 10 minutes in his kitty carrier, Andy decided to go the 600 decibel yowl route. All the way to the vets. Then in the waiting room where everyone in the building became quickly aware that Andy was in da house. Then he screamed in the examining room where the vet grimaced then inquired, "Do you think he'd be happier back in his box?". And back out in the waiting area while we waited for his meds. Let us not forget the trip home. Where the ATT&T repair man, who was up the telephone pole called down, "Don't worry, kitty, you're almost home."

Quick, hide in the cupboard.

One of the medications he's on is for pain. And let me tell you, Andy is higher than a kite. He has spent most of the evening lying on the living room carpet and spinning himself around with his paws. This is when he's not running from room to room to stare at the walls. Or wandering around aimlessly, purring to himself. DeeDee is hiding in the bathtub and I'm afraid to go to sleep tonight.

Whoa, have I got the munchies.

Pray for us.