Weekend from hell. So basically, I was too lazy to look under the reclining chair before closing it (I know, right? Who the hell has a recliner anymore?) and my cat, Geoffrey Whiskerbottoms, was underneath it. Oopsies. As poor Geoffrey tried to escape, my boyfriend and I opened the
recliner to help him, but by doing so we actually crushed the cat between two metal bars within the mechanism. The cat screeched bloody murder, and we attempted a rescue that ultimately led to the cat biting through my boyfriend’s hand. That little bitch! My b/f began to bleed all over my $10 yard-sale bargain rug while I screamed like a school girl. We had to flip the chair on its side to get a better analysis of the situation before we were finally able to free poor kitty. Geoffrey then collapsed to the floor, tongue out of his mouth, eyes eerily wide open. OMFG, I’ve killed my cat! Thankfully, however, I only killed life #1 of his 9 and he’s got 8 more to go because Geoffrey then started to convulse. After a few seconds, he jumped up and limped off to hide under my roomie’s bed.
I subsequently spent the majority of my weekend at the emergency animal hospital and the emergency room for my b/f’s hand. While waiting in the “cat section” (yup, they have a cat-specific section) at the vet, we noticed two creepy older guys staring at us while holding the tiniest of boxes. I couldn’t imagine any cat fitting into the box so I asked them why they were there. Lucky for me, these guys were chatters. Oh, how I loved learning about their 10-15 ferrets that they let run around the house at all times like they’re roommates or something. Allegedly, one of the ferrets
had bitten through a live wire and passed out, and creepy-man #1 had to give it mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. The ferret, like Geoffrey, lived on and the creepsters now happily awaited the final verdict with me in the cat section of the animal hospital.
Once Geoffrey Whiskerbottoms was deemed okay (Thank you, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!) and given a weeks worth of painkillers (I may have to sneak one or two of those for myself to deal with the wrath of my boyfriend) we then had to rush off to the human emergency room for the gushing hand. Of course, cat teeth act like hypodermic needles and basically inject your body with ass-parasites and bacteria. And OF COURSE, the emergency room is packed to the brim with vomiting children on this lovely Saturday evening. Great, so while we’re here we can also catch the latest strain of pre-K influenza. Wooooh! Someone please get me some of my cat’s meds NOW.
And this has been your weekend installment of
Debbie D-Nast Downer.