Rocky has to go to the vet tonight. Several weeks ago (right about the time the vet switched his arthritis meds, it occurs to me now), he started in with a "hairball cough". If you have a cat, you know what I'm talking about here. He never actually puked up any hairballs, just coughed. I kept thinking it would go away, and then I started thinking maybe I should call the vet ..... and ...... yeah. Time passes. You know how that goes.
So here it is several weeks later, and yesterday he started in with what I call "wet breathing". Ewwwwwww. You know how when you have a cold, and you're all congested, and it sounds like you are breathing underwater, because your lungs are so full of crud? And you're just kind of ..... wheezing? Yeah. That's what Rocky's doing. And when you combine "hairball cough" with "wet breathing", that's a pretty scary sound right there. Oh! And when he purrs, it sounds like a freaking FREIGHT TRAIN.
While it really doesn't seem to bother HIM at all, it is freaking ME the fuck out. So at 11:30 last night, I was up in the attic in my PJs, hauling down the humidifier, then rummaging through my desk looking for the instructions, and getting the whole thing set up, trying to ease poor kitty's labored breathing.
It didn't help. So! At five o'clock tonight, we have a date with the vet. Hopefully we can get this breathing thing straightened out, because it is scaring ME to death. Oh, and while we're there, his nails need to be clipped back, and he's got these weird lumps on his neck, and I think it's time to try some new arthritis meds, and he needs some more flea stuff, and ..... we could be there for a while.
Wish us luck!