This is not such a bad thing but just one of those things that is worrying enough to be worrying and inconvenient enough to warrant cursing as one's back throbs carrying the cat carrier through the Mission. Jackson went to the vet for the second time this year! I don't know why they do this to me. Last week while I was in my funk I noticed that he was leaking urine and leaving a little puddle everywhere he sat. He seemed ok otherwise and I did not feel a full bladder on him so he wasn't blocked but I didn't know what was going on so after berating myself for being poor and unable to care for my animals I phoned in a very nice favor from a very nice person and so we made ourselves an appointment for this morning.


Well, by yesterday he was not leaking anymore. But with neutered male cats and old cats and especially old neutered male cats you don't mess around with the urinary stuff so I kept the appointment and they drew blood and collected urine and now we are back home and the results will be in tomorrow. Santiago only hissed at Jackson a couple of times after we got back; he's getting better at recognizing his friends. Sometimes the little punk hisses at me when I come in before, I guess, I am close enough for him to get a good sniff. It just makes him a cat; they identify others by smell more than sight, but who else ever comes home and up the stairs with keys rattling, calling out "Hey little freakshow!"?

It's also sort of comic because he is not very big and not very scary at all. And he always runs out to see who is coming in like he can handle anything. Heh. =^..^=

Anyway I see they also did a urinary culture for Jackson so that will take a couple of days unless something is really thriving in there. Meantime he seems fine now. He is so sweet that rather than hiding and running away from me after I take him in, when we get home he wants extra extra attention. I think maybe he has abandonment issues and thinks if he is very nice maybe I won't leave him anywhere.

So that was bothering me too, last week when I was not saying anything. And of course now this week I am feeling better and so is he. Maybe he's just an empath and thinks that when I am in a bad way he has to come down with something puzzling too.

Cats. Meds. Madness.

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