Tagged: fleas

I’ve invested more in my cats than in my 401K.

Part 2 of vet visit. The bill. The one that made me faint.

My vet is not a bargain vet. I could find a cheaper one. But I’ve been to a few, and I’ve learned that the peace of mind that comes with having a vet you have complete confidence in and really like is worth its weight in gold. And I don’t just like my regular vet, either. I like the other vet in the office, and the staff as well. No one talks down to me, everyone patiently listens to my bazillion questions and my overanalyzing. I find that I like women docs more, too. I can probably chalk this up to the fact that I’ve only had interactions with 2 male vets and I didn’t feel like either of them were particularly affable. I’m sure there’s plenty of really awesome male docs. I just haven’t met them. In conclusion, when your cats are your children, nothing is more important. So I’ll happily pay a lil more for their care.

I’d expected a decent-sized bill. I just didn’t expect HOW much.

1. Exam. Expected.

2. Bloodwork. Expected. Not expected? Adding the charge to recheck Taco for FeLV and FIV. Suggested because one of his pupils was noticeably bigger than the other. Apparently, even kitties have been screened for this as babies, it’s recommended that they’re screened again 2 months after moving into forever home. Taco wasn’t, and either of these could be a cause for different sized pupils. This is where paying extra for a good vet comes in…Upon your kitty’s first visit, they take his or her picture for their records, as well as make a little laminated tag to put on the carrier. My vet compared the picture to the live Taco and noted that his pupils were fine in the pic. DETAILS. I LOVE THEM. I haven’t gotten the results back yet. Also another reason I love my vet? They’re super up on technology. They email.

3. Rabies vaccine. Expected. Don’t necessarily agree with this one, but it’s required for his kitty license and if we need to board them on vacay.

4. License. Forgotten about, but expected. Stupid, because they’ll never get out. Of course it’s possible, but my cats are terrified of the outside world. Twice the door has opened accidentally and not noticed for a few hours and no one went near it.

5. Kitty probiotics.

Ask your vet about this if your cat's poop makes you gag.

Ask your vet about this if your cat’s poop makes you gag.

Don’t laugh. Taco has the MOST rank-smelling poo in the world. It’s impossible for me to understand how he and Moosh eat the same thing but comes out SO much more foul from his ass. Adding the probiotics helps a bit. Worth the money. I promise.

6. Revolution.

Die, fleas, die.

Die, fleas, die.

Not expected. Was reminded it’s coming up on flea season again. Wish to avoid an invasion. And yes, I know there’s natural options for fleas but I’ve tried all of them, and trust me, they don’t work in Florida. It’s all dirt here, which is flea heaven.

7. Kitty food.

Urinary health cat food. Yay.

Urinary health cat food. Yay.

Taco’s stupid prescription food. I suppose it’s not horribly expensive but in my eyes, it is for crap food that’s not natural or organic or byproduct-free. But it helps him, so who am I to complain?

And that, my dears, is why Mommy is eating PB&Js for awhile. I never thought I’d spend so much on a vaguely healthy cat. Sigh.

Still waiting for my brats to start working. The slugs are sleeping at the moment.

Get up and make me money.

Get up and make me money.

I’m about to send them out with resumes.

For the love of cats (and hatred of fleas)

I stopped by my mom’s yesterday. I haven’t seen Fatty and Little for a couple weeks.

Little and Fatty, back in the day.

Cats are really funny. They are both so much better. So much so, in fact, that Little went back to his routine of hiding from me immediately, and Fatty punished me for my recent absence by ignoring my love for awhile. No purr.

It was funny, the moment I could tell that he decided I had suffered enough. He jumped down from his box and swirled around my arm, started purring and plopped his fat self down on my hand. Apparently I should visit more often.

Little never did come out from under the bookcase, even with treats. I got him to move a tiny little bit for one, but Fatty ran under and ate the others. I naively thought that Little meowing at me to pet him a few weeks was because he decided he liked me. Silly me, it’s just because he felt like shit. If you are a crazy cat lady, you understand this feeling of failure. In my mind, every cat should love me because they should KNOW. Just like I think every stray cat I see, whether it’s at a shelter or on the street, is saying to me “I KNOW you would love me SO much and I would LOVE to come home with you. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE!”

Little, the loner kitty.

But I digress. It’s a huge relief to see them acting like normal, since the fleas took so much power from them. I hate fleas. I really hate them. And I hate that the lack of winter here, hence lack of cold, cold that I HATE, is partially to blame for the fuckers’ survival (the fleas, not the cats).

I live in a townhouse so I don’t really have much of a yard for fleas to live in. This is probably why I have been able to somewhat control them with Moosh and Taco. But I am terrified of them taking root. I have boraxed, revolutioned, vacuumed and washed. Taco was ok with the natural flea spray the first few times I used it on him, but now he will gouge me to get away.

By the way, that stuff REALLY freakin’ works. Vet’s Best. I used it on myself. I read the bottleā€¦it doesn’t say not to.

Anyway. Fatty is good. I’m pretty sure Little is, since for him, hiding is normal. Fatty is getting back to being fat. He actually only weighs a little more than Moosh and Taco, Not quite sure how his giant gut does not factor more in to the equation.

And now Taco is eating my sandal, so I think that means I have to go pay attention to him. This is fine with me, I’m sick and feel like crap anyway. Laying down DOES sound like a good idea.

And IN my shoes. Sigh.