With the wind blowing at about a hundred miles per hour, the last thing either Thor or I wanted to be doing was making a trip to the veterinarian on Sunday, but trip we did.
The day started innocently enough, with me waddling around the place wondering whether I'd stay in and watch football or go out and do something constructive, when I noticed the little guy scratching his right ear like a mental patient.
Thinking back, I had noticed him shaking his head for a few days as though he was trying to lure something loose - like I do when I think about my social life. I had wondered about that, but since he hasn't been here very long, I figured it was a strange tic or something odd that he does. But, when I thought about the ear scratching I figured it was something more than a strange habit.
When I took a look at his right ear, I noticed that it was kind of red and irritated from all the scratching. I grabbed for the phone and called the vet, hoping they could take him on a Sunday. Fortunately (and probably because he's so lovable) they could see him at 12:30, so I boxed him up and carried his fat ass to the vet.
I say "fat ass" because, as it turns out, he has gained 1.5 pounds since I brought him home 2 months ago, to weigh in at an alarming 16 pounds. I knew something was amiss when the vet said, "Oh my" when she put him on the scale. Even though I've been feeding him weight control food, he has ballooned to giant cat proportions. We'll be working on that.
It turned out that he has ear mites that had not been fully exterminated from his first visit after rescuing him from the animal shelter. She cleaned his ears thoroughly and gave him a dose of something called Revolutions ear mite medicine that she put on his neck. I got another dose that I have to administer in 3 weeks and ear drops that he gets twice daily. With any amount of good fortune, he'll stop shaking his head and scratching his ears.
While she was looking at his teeth, she noticed that he is missing some (which we already knew) and mentioned that one of them might need to be pulled due to some strange cat-like teeth problem that has a name too long for me to remember. I'll have to take him back in the spring for a cleaning, since he has gingivitis, and he'll likely have to have one of his front teeth pulled - so he has that to look forward to. I'm not saying anything.
Fortunately, cats can survive without front teeth, and it might work in his favor since he needs to eat less anyway.
Needless to say, his exciting morning led to a sleepy afternoon and evening (me and him) and he'll soon forget the drops I have to put in his ears and the food that he won't be getting. But in the end, I suspect that he'll be grateful that he has me here to take care of him.
As it turned out, I wound up doing something constructive.