It’s true. He’s a cat and not a flying squirrel
Turns out that:
1) He is indeed a boy. You’d think this would be easy to determine, but no.
2) He’s very healthy with no feline leukemia, hernia, mites, viruses or other icky things normally found on strays. I attribute this to his adoring human mother.
3) We’re right about our estimate of his age – about 8-9 weeks old.
4) Vet’s offices are a fun place to be. I should have stuck with that plan to be a veterinarian. It’s way better than Bank of No Forks.
When Jojo and I got there, the waiting room was so crowded there was nowhere to sit. Then when they called us back there was no examination room available so we were shown to the back room and the surgery. Jojo was a hit and all the techs thought him adorable.
Because he is.
I told them he was found in our boat so the doctor dubbed him an honorary Merchant Marine. While we were waiting for blood tests to come back, I learned what all the other animals in the back were there for. One giant Schnauzer, Blue Lady, had eaten an entire beach towel and had to have emergency surgery. Stupid dog. They thought she was going to pull through, but it had been touch and go there for a while.
There was an enormous white persian with ridiculously huge, round golden eyes. He had also eaten something and they hadn’t decided what they were going to do about it yet. He was taken out of his holding cage and put on the same table with Jojo. He just sat there like a fuzzy lump. He made absolutely no move at all, not even a peep, when he was stabbed, twice, with an IV needle. The tech described him as a giant marshmallow. Incredibly apt description.
And then, through a sliver of window I saw a HUGE black, fuzzy mass. I jumped right up and thrust poor sleeping Jojo at a tech and raced to the hall. I was right! A newfie – and he was huge. Huger even than Sophie. I didn’t even hesitate to grasp his wide, fuzzy head and gaze into his soft brown eyes.
His name is Claymore. How awesome is that? He weighed 185 lbs and is only 18 months old. It made my heart ache for my Sweet Sophie. His master was horrified that I was immediately covered in drool but I only laughed when he whipped out a “drool towel”. I assured him that I wasn’t even the slightest bit upset. I confessed that I still have drool marks on the ceiling in the living room and Sophie’s been gone for years.
Ah, if you thought cake and buttercream frosting were my weaknesses, you’re wrong. It’s fuzzy faces. They’re my undoing.
Kelli famously aspired to being either a lawyer or waitress. She couldn’t decided which was more glamorous. What did you want to be when you grew up? Was it way better than what you ended up being? Astronaut? Fireman? Movie Star?