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Twenty-four hours later, as I was brushing my teeth, etc., Timmy plopped down on the bathroom floor (as he often does to get his belly rubbed) and I noticed a shiny red spot on his right shoulder. It was a bite, to the muscle, a little smaller than a dime. Shocking! He didn't seem to be in pain, but he kept licking it, especially after S1 and I put triple antibiotic ointment on it. He probably would've been okay, but I decided to take him to the vet. I had been thinking about it, and then when S1 said to keep an eye on the bite because it might get infected, that it might need a stitch or two, I figured I would just take him anyway.
An ounce of prevention costs $250, I found out. Fortunately, I'm okay on bills and have been working a lot recently, so it didn't hurt too bad. And to be fair to the veterinary profession, I also got his rabies and other vaccinations (except for FVH -- because he has to get tested for that in three months due to the bite and will get the vaccination after he tests negative), and I got the tick and ear mite drops and a 5.5-pound bag of the special food he has to eat because his urine is crystalline.
So much for not wanting to have a pet because they cost money and would slow me down on my goal of getting out of debt.
But, then again, how much does this kitty give me in love and affection? And how much of a cat person am I? His pain medicine is an opiate, and after watching the second of the two movies that I rented on Sunday last night, after not having had a visit from Timmy in S1's room the duration of the long French movie, I found him zonked out -- quite high, actually -- on my folded up blanket next to the heater. I made S1 come look at him, which caused S1 to sigh and I realized then that I would do anything for this little furry gray thing!
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