I took Elvis to the vet today. It took both of us to get him in the carrier. By the way, Elvis is a 17 year old cat who has never been sick a day in his life. He says it is because he does not believe in jumping or running. The end of my son’s bunk bed has scars to prove it. Elvis and his siplings were bottle kittens. I always fed Elvis last because I could put him on my bed while I fed the others and he wouldn’t go anywhere. Now, he is the only one left. He ain’t no dummy. He got a shot of penicillin and liquid antibiotics to take. He peed on the way home. My cat carriers all have thick fleece pads that I made so there was no real mess. Elvis, however, was embarrassed and hid under the bookcase until after the others had eaten. I hope Doug will be able to give him his medicine when I go back to Reisterstown for a few days. If not, I will have to take him with me. That means no stops for me along the way.
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Up a Creek in Lower Slower Delaware 