Off to the Vet - or the Funny Farm

I think maybe my animals are not only codependent on me, they are codependent on each other.  Or maybe they just enjoy making my life a challenge especially since our lives just aren't very exciting as of late.  The most exciting thing going on is that we make a trip to the vet's once a week.  Maybe they are trying to shake things up by creating a competition of who can get rushed to the vet faster.

Of course there is something to the power of suggestion.  When one cat eats, all cats have to eat. When one cat uses the litter box, suddenly the other two have to use it as well.  Naturally if one animal gets sick, the rest of them have sympathy pains, or at least a sympathy need to lighten my pocketbook.

Since Tess' trip to the vet where she went in for a teeth cleaning and came out missing eight teeth, Puckett seems to think that she needs to catch up in the vet department.  It was several weeks ago when I took both of them to the vet, Tess for her shots, Puckett because she was acting lethargic, and it became a two-for-one special.  Just bring the cat in too, and we'll take a look at her!  That was when they told me Tess needed her teeth cleaned so she went back two weeks later where she wound up losing her eight teeth.  Not to be undone, now Puckett has taken up coughing and sneezing like some kind sinus infection patient, and the other morning she actually woke me up by sneezing twenty times in a row.

Maybe she really did have sympathy pains for Tess, I don't know. I do know the vet bills are piling up fast.  Then on top of it I'm probably a little codependent on my animals as well, because I spent the day crying when I brought Tess home from the vet after her surgery.  When I left Puckett at the vet for the day to find out what her deal is, I felt the most enormous amount of guilt ever, just because of the look she shot me when the vet techs carried her into the back (or lugged, as the case may be).  She continued to make me feel guilty when I picked her up and they informed me she was perfectly fine and hadn't sneezed or coughed all day.  She continued to not sneeze or cough the rest of the evening as if she was sticking it to me for having the nerve to take her to the vet at all, given that there is nothing medically wrong with her.

Or so she'd have me believe if for no other reason than to make me feel worse for making an unnecessary trip to the vet.

She forces me to take her to the vet, and then she makes me feel super guilty for it.  This is actually just a part of her whole diabolical plan.

If Puckett ain't happy ain't nobody happy.  And Puckett sure isn't happy unless she's causing some kind of discord in an otherwise placid, almost boring, household.  She likes to shake things up.  She also does not like it when the dog gets all the attention, unless of course, she is the one paying attention to the dog.  That isn't always fun for the dog.

Of course Percy and Willow, also not to be outdone, are both due for their shots and I'm fairly certain Percy is due for another teeth cleaning as well. He'll probably need another tooth pulled too, though hopefully not eight. Then the whole drama of hysterics will start all over again.  Percy can be a little asshole, but as soon as he's injured or sick I go all to pieces.

Incidentally Tess is now perfectly fine, back to eating hard food, with no memory of having ever been in pain or on weird medication that made her see two of me, and yet I'm still feeling the emotional affects of it.  I could also just be a weepy, emotional mess for the most part, and that is a fair bet anyway.  I sure cry a lot so I might as well cry over my pets.  At least they deserve my tears even if they do treat me like I'm absolutely crazy most of the time.  Pretty soon they start acting all depressed and crazy too, so we are definitely something to see, the five of us moping around like someone has just informed us that The Walking Dead has been canceled.

I have not yet scheduled the next vet visit (I believe it's Percy this time) but I need to get on it.  I have, however, scheduled my next visit to the therapist, so not only am I paying an arm and a leg for the health of my pets, I'm also shelling out a good deal of money for my own.

Mine isn't working.  Puckett is a hypochondriac.  Tess seems to come back from the vet missing parts. We've got a good thing going here - we all depend on one another to have some issue or other so that someone is constantly visiting the doctor and the rest of us can feel sorry for whoever the lucky candidate of the week is.

This week it's my turn to see the therapist, and as I've spent a good deal of the week already sobbing my eyes out, I don't anticipate the appointment going so well.  The animals are sure to be here when I get home to sympathize and choose one among them to develop something chronic so he or she can join in the sympathy party.

We are all going to need straight jackets eventually.