i just got back from taking julius to the vet. they think he may have a virul infection, so he got a shot today, he’ll get one tomorrow and they want to check him again monday. if he’s not better by then (i.e. he can breathe, doesn’t sneeze and has a voice again) they said they’ll have to try something else.
julius didn’t take to the vet’s office too well. when the nurse pulled him out to take his temperature, he gave me a look as if to say, you didn’t say we were coming HERE. he ran back into his cat carrier (usually i have to push him in it) after his temp was taken (really can’t blame him for this one) and was straining to see out the window through the holes in the side. i tried to pull him out so he could actually look out the window, but he firmly planted his four legs against the sides. he wasn’t going anywhere.
when the doctor came in, julius ran under my chair and eyed the door, trying to quickly concoct his escape plan, so the doctor calls him “the cat who wants to travel to atlanta.” oh my poor boy…thermometer, claws clipped and a shot. no wonder he’s so mad at me now.