Caturday Pootie Diary: Summer is coming

I shook my head at the cat staring hopefully up at me. “You can’t have any,” I said, taking a bite of my sandwich. “You’re diabetic and your mouth is still healing.” “Surely I can have one little bite,” he argued. “One little bite won’t hurt.” “It might so we aren’t taking the chance,” I said. He sighed, and turned his back on me to lie down. A gentle reminder of how we do things: 🐱🐶🐦 Do not troll the diary. If you hate pootie diaries, leave now. No harm, no foul. Please do share pics of your fur kids! If you have health/behavior issues with your pets, feel free to bring it to the community. Pooties are cats; Woozles are dogs. Birds... are birds! Peeps are people. Whatever happens in the outer blog STAYS in the outer blog. If you’re having “issues” with another Kossack, keep it “out there.” This is a place to relax and play; please treat it accordingly. There are some pics we never post: snakes, creepy crawlies, any and all photos that depict or encourage human cruelty toward animals. These are considered “out of bounds” and will not be tolerated. If we alert you to it, please remember that we do have phobic peeps who react strongly to them. If you keep posting banned pics...well then...the Tigress will have to take matters in hand. Or, paw.I snatched an apple out of the bowl on the kitchen island and dropped it into the lunch bag, then satisfied that I had enough to eat for the day, I zipped it closed. The microwave signaled that the egg was done. He stood and stretched (“Oooh, goooooooood streeeeeeeetch!”) then turned toward me and placed a paw on my lap. “I could lie on the furry blanket?” he said, hopefully. “It’s so hot,” I whined. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” “You aren’t fun anymore,” he huffed. “Spring is not my fault.” “I’m getting fewer treats — “ “They’re crunchy and your mouth is still healing.” “There’s no kibble — “ “You can only have soft food for just a few more days.” “You keep shooting that terrible stuff down my throat!” I winced at that. The day after his procedure, his cheeks had swelled up a bit and the vet gave us some antibiotics for him just to prevent any infection that might be brewing from taking hold. The liquid was thick, and brown, and decidedly sludge-like. “I’m sorry about that. Only a few more days.” “You keep taking me to the vet! You left me there all day!” “That was to help you!” I defended myself. “And as long as your healing keeps going well you won’t have to go back for a while.” “You should be nicer to me,” he said, darkly. “My credit card is being very nice to you,” I shot back, then immediately regretted it. That wasn’t his fault. “I don’t mean that,” I said. “I don’t even know what that means,” he said. I sighed, and petted him in attempt to defuse the situation. “It’s been a rough few weeks,” I commiserated. “It really has,” he agreed, settling down again. “Don’t worry. This will be a good summer. Your mouth is going to feel so much better. No more pain!” “That will be pretty good,” he grudgingly agreed. I frowned down at him. “I wish you would tell me when you were hurting.” “I can’t do that!” he said, scandalized. “What about the predators!” I smiled. “You’re an indoor cat,” I reminded him. “What do you want to do this summer?” I asked. “Sleep,” he said, immediately. “Of course,” I said. “That’s the best way to beat the heat.” “I like to eat, too,” he said. “These are all things you do all the time,” I pointed out. “Is there anything you want to do just for summer?” He thought about it. “Keep to myself and not be near any humans.” I laughed. “Yeah, that is your favorite summer activity.” "Are you going to spend time in the weird big water dish?” he asked. I nodded. “Probably a lot of time,” I said. “You could go swimming with me. I bet you can do it.” He recoiled a little. “Or not!” I said, quickly. “I’d never force you!” “Human, the ducks go in there,” he said with exaggerated patience. “Yes, but I’m not afraid of them. And they don’t go in the backyard when I’m out there. I scare them away.” We sat in silence for a minute. “They poop in there,” he said, quietly. It was my turn to recoil. I was partially asleep when I felt Freddie get up. He wasn’t trying to hard to keep me from waking up, walking over my lap without grace or gentleness. “Ouch,” I murmured, opening my eyes. “Where are you going?” I asked as he jumped to the floor. “I’m going to get a head start on Summer,” he said, over his shoulder as he left the room. “It’s time to ignore me?” I said. “It’s time to ignore you,” he confirmed. Happy Caturday, Peeps! On Sunday night Freddie had some swelling in his cheeks and I called the vet (they are a 24/7 eVet as well as a regular clinic so someone is always there). I really thought it was a normal reaction but I just wanted to make sure. They told me it was not, in fact, a normal reaction and that I should bring him in. Since he was eating and not having trouble breathing, they made me an appointment with his regular vet for the next morning instead of recommending I bring him in that night. The swelling was better in the morning, but I still kept the appointment. His lungs were clear and he didn’t seem to be in any extra pain, so the vet just gave us some antibiotics to take home and instructed me to come back if the problem didn’t improve or got worse. He said that diabetes can sometimes complicate healing. By the next day, the swelling was gone altogether so I don’t think we’ll have to go back. He does seem to be doing pretty well.