Feb. 13th, 2012

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Big, but fine. He weighs 10 kilos. The new and young-ish junior vet in the practice had to do calculations but this Child of the Sixties immediately knew that meant 22 pounds.

New and Young-ish says The Scamp isn't fat, just a bruiser of a cat. Big bones, huge muscles, says the vet. The sore on his leg is just an abrasion with some surface infection -- no big pus-laden abscess hiding behind a scab, *whew.*

So The Scamp got an anti-inflammatory shot, an antibiotic shot, a feline leukemia test (negative) and vaccination because for some reason he never had one, and a couple other immunizations. Total bill pretty horrendous, but he hasn't been to the vet for five years, I blush to say, so it amortizes out to about 50 bucks a year.

He yowled a bit on the way over and wasn't exactly thrilled with the process, but he didn't wail in sheer terror the way Ferko and Quaker City used to, and his eyes didn't totally dilate with fear.

The cabbies fell all over themselves to get me here and back again on time. I hear that word on the street is that I tip VERY generously when the ride is embarrassingly short, so they're glad to do it.

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