The boyfriend and I went to Ikea this weekend to buy a new desk, one that makes me feel more grown-up (I’ve had my old one since high school) and a bookcase. This weekend has been a whirlwind of putting stuff together and reorganizing (not even remotely finished with that).

This may be me overreacting, but Moosh is acting weird. I mean, he’s a weird cat anyway so that alone wouldn’t be cause for alarm, but I also noticed that when I cleaned out the upstairs litter box yesterday (which I’d forgotten to do all week), the one that Moosh frequents, there was no pee. None. There was enough pee in the downstairs one that it could have been the work of two normal, healthy cats, but it struck me as odd.

 

But now I think he’s acting funny. I couldn’t find him this morning and finally did in Jason’s shower. He likes to jump in there, but usually right out. Not like, hang out there. Especially when treats are offered. Other than that he’s just acting funny. Sometimes he’s acting totally fine, and then he does random things. He spent all day under the bed, but I think that’s his new spot, so that part might be ok. And he’s eating fine. But there was only one pee in the downstairs box today and Taco peed on the couch again (that’s a whole ‘nother story) so statistically it seems likely that the pee in the box was Moosh’s, right? I pushed him in his a bazillion times and he keeps jumping right out and looking at me like I’m an asshole.

If you have a male cat, you may already know about crystals. Crystals are a male cat owner’s nightmare. They stop up the peeing process and kitty gets sick. Really sick. And if you don’t get them to the vet in time, they can die. Best case scenario is a very expensive vet visit/stay.

 

I THINK, though, that crystal-inflicted kitties still go in the box and try. Moosh hasn’t. So I’m trying to not worry. The rational part of me (rarely the part that wins out in a worry situation) says he’s probably fine, he’s probably acting funny because a) when we came home from Ikea yesterday, there was a smashed glass on the kitchen floor, which I deduced that Moosh decided to go in the cabinet and at some point knocked out a glass that hit the counter on its way to the floor, so that may have freaked him out a bit and b) there’s two new, large pieces of furniture in the house that he doesn’t recognize.

 

I’m still worried. I will continue to worry until there is a properly soiled litterbox or until I take him to the vet. Worry, unfortunately, is what I do best.