Cindy & Warren Ochs have redesigned their sim, ImaginationEstates↑, they’ve done a wonderful job, and it seemed (with apologies to them) like an appropriate backdrop for today’s story. Well it’s actually a confession or, according to Fergus, a penance.
If you don’t know Fergus, he’s one of the feline characters who moved into my real life about 16 months ago. I’ve been very lucky with my 4-legged children – my female cats lived 18 years, my rescue dog almost 16. You will be wondering how that’s possible when I tell you what happened yesterday.
I had a few clues that something was wrong. The litter box was noticeably under-utilized, and there was too much food in their dishes. In spite of running around like a toddler on sugar, Fergus wasn’t his normal self.
I mean, what self-respecting cat eats a treat like a squirrel eats a nut? Nibbling stuff with his front teeth made him look demented. As this is the animal who considers plastic to be one of the major food groups, I started to worry.
When he vomited alllllllll over the utility room floor I decided he really should see the Vet. However, the plan was not thought through as well as it should have been.
The Vet’s office is less than a mile from us. This is an easy walk. I can manage my old cat carrier and I can hold a 17 pound cat, but both at the same time was not going to work – even for that distance.
I decided to be clever. I wasn’t going to take a taxi because I’m cheap, instead I borrowed my 92 year old Mother’s walker and balanced the carrier (with the cat in it) on the seat. Brilliant right? I just had to push the walker on its wheels to the appointment and Fergus would have a nice trip outdoors.
There were a couple of things wrong with this idea. First of all my Mother is much shorter than I am, so the handles are “down there”. Not a comfortable experience.
The bigger problem was that I hadn’t fully explained to Fergus the principle behind “center of gravity”. We were about 2 blocks along our journey when he moved from one end of the carrier to the other. That 17 pounds of force sent the carrier sliding off the walker, end over end, and crashing into the ground. He was not impressed and complained, loudly, for the remainder of the trip. I tried to look unconcerned for the benefit of all the people wondering wtf was going on.
The Vet knows me well and isn’t too surprised when one of my animals has something odd wrong with them. She told him he was continuing a fine tradition.
The X-ray didn’t reveal anything, but plastic doesn’t show up on them. I also pointed out that I might have dislodged whatever it was when I dropped him on his head. She was amused but unconvinced.
He has to go back again in about one hour and I’m evaluating options for this trip. Fergus is voting for the taxi.