Eight Left

“He may be blocked in another area,” said the vet looking over her mask.

“Yeah?”

”His penis is purple.”

“Is that bad?”

“Um, yes.”

“So, a cat doesn’t normally, have, you know, a pur-“

“No.”

A week ago on Friday I took our cat to the vet to get a pedicure. (That’s how we decided on this veterinary practice — they were the only ones able to trim his nails.) This keeps our furniture and carpet less shreddy. Yes, Magic has any number of cardboard and sisal rope scratching posts, but he prefers to work in leather or Berber.

They actually like our cat at the vet. Not sure why. Maybe because they get to charge us double as they need all hands on cat. (This is after I set him up with a little Gabapentin at home.) All I know is that anyone who’s in the reception area thinks I’m waiting on a very large and hostile bobcat.

(He’s not that big. But he is 12 pounds of ABSOLUTE FURY.)

We got Magic at the shelter when he was one — we think. So he’s about three now. He’s definitely a petdemic cat in that we got him early on and he’s used to us and only us. Houseguests, whom are infrequent, are met with hisses and half-threats.