Arctic temperatures, mind-numbing winds, public transportation gone haywire… It must be time to take a cat to the vet.
Our little Aggie is quite the beefcake, it turns out. Our younger cat had her first trip to the vet this morning. (Or rather, the first trip to our vet. Her previous owner also took her to a vet. We’re not monsters.) She’s a perfectly healthy kitty, except that she appears to be allergic to the brand of cat litter we’ve been using. Also, at fifteen pounds she’s a whole lot of cat. Of course, Mandy and I knew this already because Aggie likes to sleep with us on our bed. She picks a spot, and you have to work your way around her. It’s like she anchors herself, and nothing short of a forklift is going to pry her loose once she’s settled in for the night.
It’s adorable, really. Even if we do have to replace all the cat litter.