So, the Man-Kitty. This is his birthday month, and he’s 9. So I noticed recently that he’s been having (infrequent, but more than once) Litter Box Issues. At first, I figured that I’m a lazy pet owner and his box wasn’t clean enough, so I started with being a better pet owner and cleaning the box more frequently. But then last week, with a totally clean box, he peed on his little cushion that he likes to sleep on right in front of me, and I thought: “Something is wrong, maybe.” Maybe, because he is neurotic, and he Doesn’t Do Well With Change, and this happened during the Great Book Migration. (He did a similar thing when I moved three years ago. But so anyway, I figured it couldn’t hurt to make a vet appointment and they admitted him because they need for him to pee in their special litter in order to take a urine sample. So I’m home with Mr. Stripey, who immediately was all “squeak squeak squeak” (because he can’t really meow), so he’s been weird this afternoon. And I’m hopeful that it’s not a big deal, and I know I’m being a nervous mama, and I just need to get over it because seriously: whatever is happening is happening. But I hope that he pees before the day is done otherwise they will need to keep him overnight!
So keep him in your thoughts because the Man-Kitty is my one true life partner and I can’t deal with anymore fucked up crap right now.
Also, I confess that I was so freaked out when they admitted him that I texted The Dude, because I’m an asshole. He was great, of course, and that was cool, but then I had to tell him that I needed to stop texting because it was fucked up. Sigh. Perhaps my enthusiasm for this breakup was just me being in some sort of shock. I don’t think so, but man, it’s really hard not to talk to a person and make a clean break when they have insinuated themselves into your life to the extent that you’ve gotten used to relying on them for support. It would be so much easier if he were a giant asshole who had treated me like garbage and who wasn’t a good friend. Dammit. I suppose I can take heart in the fact that I at least didn’t let it go on beyond a few text messages, and at least I didn’t call him. (And look, people, I know that you’re going to tell me to delete him. That would be helpful if I didn’t know his contact information by heart.)