I used to scoff at "those" pet people. The ones who paid an arm and a leg for medical tests or procedures to save their four legged friends. How could they spend ALL that money on something as silly as a pet?
That was until I got a pet of my own. Until I fell in love with a four legged fur ball. Until I managed to let a tiny little man infiltrate my life as wholly as this one did. I have become one of "those" people.
The other night I came home from work to discover my little man was limping. My little man would cry if you touched his leg. My little man was suffering. And I cried. I actually said the words "my poor baby" and I called the 24 hour vet. I took him for xrays. I paid a lot more money than I expected to find out what was wrong with his leg.
Turns out he got his leg stuck somewhere in the laundry room. I believe he got it jammed in the cat door and tried to yank it out. And it was bruised, and damaged, and he was in pain. My poor baby was injured and there was nothing I could do.
Then I brought him home and he cried for his sister. So I brought him down to the laundry room to her (there was flooring being installed and she's got an issue with peeing on things still...) and when I went to check on him yesterday, he was nowhere to be found.
I believe what escaped my lips was "oh don't do this to me again!". I found him. He was hiding behind the washing machine and I had to coax him out with a feather toy. Now he lays on the floor beside me in his pink cast that he has to drag along behind him and he looks at me with these big sad eyes and it breaks my heart.
Yes, I have become one of "those" people. The people who fall in love with a furry little animal who hides behind washing machines, gets themselves stuck in kitten doors, and pees on beds. I wouldn't trade him for anything.