Wednesday, September 2, 2009


When she saw Memo coming toward her with a towel, she cried. It was the very definition of a plaintive cry. A mournful and heart-wrenching yowl that told us she understood that in moments we would be jamming a syringe of medicine into her mouth. Like a sick child, she really doesn't understand the love we have for her and how much it pains us every time we have to administer a dose of her "cold medicine". What a sad way to begin a day.

Unfortunately, Izzy doesn't have a cold. She is our little "Snuffles", Isabela Mable Irma II, born a little more than a year ago. She has a "broken" meow as even in her kitten days she was unable to muster a proper cat's meow. Our QE II was born with chronic allergies. She has been to see Doctor Jesus more times than we all care to remember. The doctor has in the past given her the equivalent of a kitty steroid shot when she has suffered from respiratory infections brought on by allergies.

Six weeks ago, Izzy injured her paw. Doctor Jesus couldn't even give her a proper examination without giving her a little happy juice. I just couldn't deal with her howls of fright and we had to leave her in the doctor's caring hands until she got sleepy and he was able to treat her. Doctor Jesus was even gracious enough to transport her back home when he was done. A house call of sorts, but considering we live only two doors down from his office, it was an easy thing for him to do. He is a wonderful veterinarian.

"I love that cat!" is a phrase I often blurt out when I am feeling happy with any one of our eight-is-enough pride. With Izzy, it is heartfelt. Oh, good. She's eating. All is well.

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