It is not my fault. I swear it. The Orange Outrage arrived with a puffy jaw and an abscess and I had nothing to do with it. I would not get close enough to bite him. He's obviously been hanging out again with the Nevada Cat Club, a bad bunch that fights and stays out all night and gets into all sorts of trouble. Not me! I don't fight, just hiss, snarl and growl and only when provoked.
They gave him the bum's rush into MY cat carrier. Not that I have any love for that blasted crate. Not me! Hate the trip to the vet and all those dogs and the smell of death (we aren't fooled) and all the pain and yes, humiliation. Stuck with needles, not gently like my mistress does when she gives me my meds but long sharp needles. I tell you the vet's office is a chamber of horrors.
The orange one is feeling better and he pretty much stays out of my face and I keep to the downstairs office except for food, freshening up, and a trip to my mistress bedroom at night.
I can count! I get exactly 4 pieces of snacks after my meds and my mistress tried to fool me with three today and I gave her "the look." She offered another one. I mean, really.
The young guest leaves tomorrow. I have no qualms at the sight of her suitcase. Peace will reign again. I wonder is she'll take the Interloper with her. What if I am stuck with him. Granted, he's a handsome orange fellow and I've never had a boyfriend, but strange cats give me the heebie-jeebies.
All fur, fat and outrage,