I called my vet yesterday (they weren't in the office until 3:30 because of some conference or something), and when I told the lady what was wrong with Hank, she said, "Can you bring him in right now?"
I was like, "Uhh . . . maybe . . . um . . . I'll try to."
So, I left work early (after talking to people, of course, and ditching Willis since he had to stay until 5 p.m.), and I ran home. When I got there, I let the dog out, and then I went to collect the cat. When I went to grab him, the poor thing was hanging out in his litter box again and looking all frustrated. So, I waited for him . . . and waited . . . and waited. When he finally came out of the litter box, I let him clean himself up, and then I grabbed him up and ran out the door. We got to the vet with ten minutes to spare, luckily.
After a bit of waiting in the examination room, the vet came in and expressed Hank's bladder on the table. I was a little surprised at this, as I didn't realize that she had actually meant to have the cat pee all over the place. She told me afterwards that she did that on purpose, of course. They took a sample of that urine for a urinalysis. She told me that the fact that he actually peed meant that he wasn't "blocked."
She not only looked relieved about that, but she said that was a good thing. If he had been blocked (and if she had not been able to get him to pee), she said he'd have had to stay overnight to have a catheter put in and to be monitored. Oy. So . . . I was pretty relieved, too. I think Hank was also relieved considering I think this was the first time the poor cat had peed in a couple of days.
The vet gave Hank an antibiotic shot and an anti-inflammatory shot (for his pain), and we were on our way. She said they'd give us a call about the urinalysis the next morning.
Yesterday evening, Hank looked like a new cat! He actually looked like he felt better. He was all social, and his eyes looked brighter. He was even jazzy and whatnot—he attacked me in the bathroom right before I went to bed. (The cat occasionally attacks me in the bathroom when I'm leaving the room to go to bed. He's a spaz like that.)
Well, today the vet called me herself to tell me that our kitty is okay. He just has inflammation of the bladder (she said some fancy word that I couldn't repeat or spell). So, to treat him, we have to put him on some special food and sprinkle some special anti-inflammatory capsules that taste like salmon on his food for awhile. I don't think he's going to mind too much.
Now that this post has been primarily about my kitty, I must post a happy photo of him. Here:
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