My roommate has a cat named Cedric (who I thought was named Curtis when I moved in, for some unknown reason. I thought the roomie was going to kick me out of the house when I called him that. She gave me a look and said, “I would never name my cat Curtis.” right.). Anyhow, he basically eats and sleeps and shits, and doesn’t do much else except for twitch if someone makes a threatening move in his direction. However now, there really is something wrong with him. For the last couple of days he was even more lethargic than usual, not eating, not even succeeding at giving himself the half-hearted baths he usually seems to manage every once in a while.
The vet was supposed to come today to have a look at him, finally. About an hour or two before, my roommate looks up to see the cat sitting in mess of blood-pee, with a nice pile of vomit in front of him. I warned you that this was gross. The vet came, looked at him and said that he would have to take the cat for some kind of operation. So off they went. After, the vet brought the cat back, with a catheter up his you-know-what – but no bag. It’s an open catheter. My roommate was like, What… How am I supposed to deal with an open catheter and no bag?? The vet said, Just put newspaper down… all over the flat. Haha, that wasn’t happening. So we just covered everything in her room with plastic. He ran around like a crazy thing for about 10 min, then went comatose, so we left. ew ew ew