Mojocity's Problem

Sorry I didn't blog yesterday. Yesterday was really traumatic and stressful, so I didn't feel the urge to write.

            Yesterday morning, I woke up to a panic as Mom and the Smart One were watching Mojo. He was blind and meowing in distress. We had to get him to the vet, NOW! I rushed to find something other then underwear alone to put on as Mom did something similar and the Smart One tried to find a clean towel to put in the cat carrier. As I was putting on my trench coat, the Smart One came up to me to ask where the carrier was.

            "It was the thing right smegging behind you five seconds ago," I told her, trying not to punch her in the face. She, of course, has to look in the office, even though she hadn't been there all morning. This is when I burst.

            "IT'S RIGHT THERE IN PLAIN @#$%ING SIGHT!!!!!! MY CAT IS IN TROUBLE!!!! I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR STUPIDITY RIGHT NOW!"

            Finally sinking in, she ran to the carrier and put in the towel as I picked up Mojo to calm him. The Smart One came in then with a cat carrier. "Mom's ready! Put the cat in!" she told me. I did as I was told and got him upstairs. I then waited awhile until Mom did show up, not at all ready. Mom then chewed me out for not comforting Mojo, not listening to me telling her what happened. I then took him out and petted him slowly, telling him he was okay. His yowling reduced to a low "murw", then Mom showed up and it was time to get him back in the carrier and drive off. Once in the car and moving, I took the cat back out again and went back to comforting him. He was almost calm. I told him the story about his first ay with us. He was silent, no longer a mewing mess.

            We got to the vet and checked in, and went through the check out routine. Between vets coming in and out I voiced my fears, and cried. I couldn't give an accurate repetition of the doctors analysis, but I can sum it up: problems in his liver are causing problems in his brain, and he may die. On the return trip, I asked a lot of what-ifs: what if I chose a different cat, what if we realized his eyes changing color was a bad sign sooner, and those kind of questions. We got him home, and set up a little kitty area by the fire. He eventually found the basket to be a comfortable spot and slept there almost all day. I nearly did an all night vigil to make sure he would be okay.

            For any of my readers who are panicking right now, I can tell you all that he is much better today, and is probably going to live another ten years, at the least.