Every morning, and at noon, and then again at night, I am giving Tallulah a cacophony of pills in order to make her well. And along with that, I am of course worried sick about her, and the whole thing has me in a muddle, like the Good Witch. "I'm a little muddled." The Good Witch was so goddamn boring, but I did love her pink dress.
A few days ago, along with Tallulah's Munchausen's by Proxy pills, I also had to de-flea everyone. I know it's winter, but Edsel's been scratching, and he's not allowed to have anything wrong with him other than a flea. He just isn't. I got out the dog flea meds and the cat flea meds, took the vials all out of their boxes, and laid them on the counter. Then I got distracted pilling Lu and didn't de-flea everyone till later.
That night when I got home from work, Iris had big chunks of fur out her side. "Did you and Lily have a fight?" I asked her, pulling fur right off her. The thought flitted though my mind, just flitted. Geez, I hope I didn't put dog flea meds on her. But I figured it was all the same, right? Maybe she'd lose a little fur and that'd be that.
Then yesterday I came home for lunch, thank GOD, because I wanted to check on Talu, who's in good spirits but still has to work really hard to pee. I was outside with Lu when Iris came out the screen door. She was shaking everywhere and walking like she was drunk.
It was awful.
"IRIS!" I yelled, swooping her up. Her whole little cat body was shaking. I didn't even get the cat carrier. I just took her like that right to the emergency vet, WHICH WAS CLOSED, so then we had to go to my real vet, further away. The whole time she was on my lap, both purring and shaking.
When Iris was a kitten at the shelter, she was the kind of kitten who purred when you picked her up, and right then I knew. I didn't care if she had eyeballs, I just cared that she'd be a cool purry cat. And she always has been. I love all my pets, put I have always sincerely liked Iris. She just has a lot of pluck, and bravery, and never feels sorry for herself and her lack of eye-ness-ness.
I was thinking all that when I ran into the vet's office. "It's you again!" one of the nincompoop young receptionists said. There's another receptionist, an older lady with a tight perm, who saw the shaking head in my arms. "We have an emergency!" she called on the microphone. When they took shaking Iris away from me, I worried I'd never see her alive again.
I went back to work because they said they'd have to observe her all afternoon. They bathed the flea meds off her, and gave her some drugs, and I sat at my desk like a crazy person. If I killed Iris, I'd never be the same. I'd never forgive myself.
The vet called, and asked me to be godmother to her children, so close are we at this point, and alerted me that Iris had responded nicely to the drugs and she would be okay. Oh my GOD, I was so relieved. I'd been shaking just like someone had put flea meds on ME. I slept with just Iris last night, a thing that annoyed Talu, who is malingering with that pesky possible-cancer thing she's trying to pull right now, but I wanted Iris to be able to get right next to me without dogs intimidating her.
In the morning, I let everyone in, and Iris was back to her plucky self. Jesus Christ. So consider this a public service announcement. I know those damn packages of flea medicine look alike, but be really careful not to mix them up. They are NOT the same chemicals and it can kill your cat. Lucky for Iris, she still has several lives left in her.
The good news is, I got to spend more money at the vet, so.