Wednesday, November 9, 2011

I do not like the cone of shame.

Cinnamon had a boo-boo.

I didn't mention the old man recently on the blog, because when it comes to summer time, Cinnamon only comes inside to eat.  He is far too cool for his parents when it is sunny outside.

A couple Saturdays ago we came home and I saw something by his tail that I thought was a slug he had rolled on and squished.  Does this happen to other people's pets?  Perhaps it's an extra hairy cat/pacific northwest combination.  We've had to grab two slugs off him before (though, not dead. Just caught in cat hair). (Then again I bet most people don't get slugs in their shower, either.)  I tried to wipe it off so he could come inside and he FLIPPED OUT, making me think he was wounded, so I packed him up and took him to the vet.

Over the course of 45 minutes the wound became much, much worse as I watched in horror and I felt like the worst owner in the world.  Cinnabutt had an abscess that had to be flushed out.  (Insert collective "buhh.")  Buhh.

Since I already felt like the worst pet owner in the world, it didn't help when later I had to buy him a cone and everything he did with that cone on was hilarious.  He must have been doped up from his pain meds because he let me put that thing on without any hassle, purring the whole time with his big eyes on (his 'beetle eyes' as Susan calls them).  Then he kept walking backwards and taking the most exaggerated steps while looking up at me, confused, adding a pathetic "meow."

Then he climbed on my chest and pushed the cone up against my cheek, purring.  He seemed unsure as to why he couldn't reach my face so I put mine in front of his in the cone and he licked me, uncertain.

I took the cone off so he could eat (he tried to jump up, hit the side of his table, looked at me confused and meowed) and after that first night I was able to remove it and he hasn't been obsessively licking his freshly shaved butt, so everyone is happy.  Including my credit card company.

In other news, I went to the Yarn Harlot's book signing:

"I write humor.  I'm funny."

So what's new with you guys?  Lots of stuff?  Nothing?  Neighbors shooting guns in their apartment?  Go on.


  1. Oh, poor Cinnamon! But what a funny story you turned his..err...cone of awareness...into!!

  2. Bah! The cone of shame! My old TeeTee Leroux had an abcess and had to wear one. She blamed me and would only talk to Hud. If I entered the room, she would climb up on the radiator and press the cone to the window. :/ If Hud came in, she would run to him and jump up into his arms. Bitch.

    Gawd, I loved that cat.

    Feel better, Cinnamon!

  3. Cinnamon lives a charmed life.

  4. Poor Pussy. I wonder if I got a cone it would limit my food intake and cause me to lose a few pounds.

  5. Hey Katie! Where ya been?

    Poor Cinnamon! My big 16 pound ginger cat is the biggest of all wussies and used to get beat up by the other cats all the time, so I know all about abcesses. And yes to the Buhhhh as the vet squeezes and cleans. *shudder* I hope he feels better soon!

    If you think a cat in a cone is funny, you should see a bulldog in a cone. Man! I wish I had thought to take pictures of that.

  6. HEY! That fourth one! That one happened to me!

    Poor ickle Cinnabut. At leas tall is right in the kitty world for him at present :D

  7. And the Germophobe says: Ugh.
    Thank goodness that's over.
    Good pic of the Harlot and you. ^_^

  8. Poor kitty. I always feel like the worst pert owner. I o to the vet and someone has an ear infection I was unaware of... Or I treat Stella a whole week for a bladder infection that Reta has. Nice.

  9. awww poor Cinnamon... thanks for catching up on my posts, I have had NO time to read other people's happenings lately but look forward to it after the fashion show has finished... aggh

  10. We have two outside cats, but I sent our inside cat to live with one of my besties, over the summer. I miss her but am so happy, for her, that she's being pampered in whole new ways. She had a couple near-death experiences, here; I think she's down to five lives. Clementine misses riding her like a horse.


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