If being a parent is half as stressful as this week, I’m happy to wait a while, because fretting about what MWF calls “our little fur baby” was a stressful and tiring experience.
Midnight, our little black fuzzball, is a natural scavenger and any food below waist height is fair game as far as she’s concerned.
This gluttony got her into trouble on Thursday when, wanting to relieve a headache exacerbated by the Wales match, I dropped a paracetamol tablet and she was in like a flash to gobble it down.
Thank the gods she’s insured as otherwise a frantic visit to the emergency vet would have cost me most of a month’s wages.
Thursday was a stressful evening of worry and poor sleeping, and with Midge still being treated throughout Friday that wasn’t much fun either. We collected her from a bloodied and scarred veterinary nurse, and a cranky Midnight spent the evening with us.
In the morning it was back for more courses of anti-poisoning IV drugs. Finally on Saturday she was home for good and quickly back to her usual self, the only lasting effect being her shaved legs.
A broken leg and now an accidental OD. Black cats might be unlucky after all.
Any thoughts? You know what to do. BETEO.