June 2nd 2016
“Good morning children. Time to wake up. We get to take Kitten to school today!” I say.
“Oh yeah,” goes ClaraJane from a dead sleep to a stretch, “Cuz he’s getting his balls neutered.”
Something like that.
I mean to create a blog post dedicated to this cat on account of how infectious he is and how much we love having him in our family.
For now, here he is in the waiting area on the inevitable day, having perched himself in the perfect hideout from which to survey his now unfamiliar and suspicious surroundings.
“DARTH SNOWFLAKE is a sweet cat and was an excellent patient,” it says on his discharge papers. “Please prevent DARTH SNOWFLAKE from licking or chewing at his incision by keeping an ‘Elizabethan Collar‘ around his neck for the next seven days.”
Poor Darth Snowflake. Truth be told he slipped himself out of the “E.C.” (that’s what they actually call it) right away, showed no interest in messing with his incision and no signs of pain. So the $35 extra I spent on pain meds and plastic cone on top of the $260 5-minute procedure in a world class (yet locally most affordable) institution feels like kinda a sham, but I guess it beats the insecurity that would have come with our other option in getting him neutered… something my Iowa-born Hubsand purports to have something to do with a rubber band.
(Letting that sink in here.)
Anyhoo, now our sweet precious little irresistible innocent darling should be less inclined to spray our personal belongings and snug living quarters with his own special brew of oily testicular juices and pee. (Hooray!)
Leaving more time for this type of priceless wonderful nonsense during our ONE whirl inside this meaningless, immeasurable treasure of a lifetime tour on this planet:
Yup. More of that.
Aw, DARTH SNOWFLAKE. We love you!