My Cat is a Conehead

Poor Mooch. He had it rough this weekend.  He had been acting strange, for him at least, since at least Tuesday.  This included crying at nothing, not being deterred by the feared water bottle, and lastly standing weird.  Yes, I can tell when the cat is standing strange.  He had adopted this pounce-like stance where it appeared he was stalking something but wasn't.  On Friday, while we were out to dinner,  I mention this to B.  Later that night B declares something in the house must have scared Mooch.  (By the way, B is very fond of this reasoning and I have never really seen the cats scared. He must know more than I do). 

So about 11 pm on Friday night (because nothing can really happen during normal working vet hours of course), Mooch acts super strange and steps into our recycling box and just stands there. It is way too small for him and he has never shown any interest in this box at all. B insists it is perfectly normal. Suddenly, like some cheesy Lifetime movie, all the pieces of the puzzle hit me at once - the crying, the weird stance and the excessive licking of his private parts that day (that I just remembered then).  I immediately announce that Mooch is going to pee in the box.  Much to B's dismay, that is exactly what happened.  A phone call later and B is taking Mooch to the emergency vet where it is discovered he has a urinary tract problem, a lot of kidney stones and may need surgery.

The surgery discussion occurs the next day at which point we then have to determine how much we love Mooch.  Pretty bad, huh? But emergency vets and sex change surgeries are expensive. Mooch, however, is worth it.  And as of today, he does not need the surgery.  The emergency vet kept him all weekend and did some procedures to help him.  Now he has to eat fancy food and distilled water.  Still an expensive cat that one.

Now the funniest part of this story is Mooch's arrival home.  Oh, and maybe the fact that Chester did not miss him one bit.  Not at all!  He walked around and slept like he was the king of the castle (which he was).  B remarked about how animals are supposed to miss their companions. Not Chester though. I guess he was tired of being bullied.  So in walks Mooch with a CONE on his head. Too funny.  He is running up and down the hall and Chester looks genuinely surprised that has even returned. B then informs me that we have to keep them separated.  Uh huh. That will work.  

That left Mooch locked up in the back den looking very pitiful and sad.  When the door opened he shot out of there and straight for the litter box. Of course the cone prevented his entering, but Mooch was determined and just barged in. I informed B that he was not going to be able to come back out, but I was wrong. He barged right back out and immediately ran into the wall (no depth perception without whiskers and all).

I tried to get a picture of Mooch in his cone but he is having none of that.  He looks so pitiful and every time I try to take it he just rubs his cone up against my leg and makes me feel guilty at attempting to find humor in his situation. Mooch tells me that he would rather I post a regal looking pic.  So here you go:

Meanwhile, Chester? Yeah, he is TERRIFIED of Mooch.  After crying all night long to be let in the back room (and being squirted with a water bottle 5 times throughout the night - yeah, I got NO sleep), he is finally let in the room, only to take one look at Mooch in that cone and hiss at him!  Chester NEVER hisses at Mooch. He then backed away and ran down the hall. Now whenever Mooch is let out randomly, Chester hides.  That is how odd that cat looks in the cone. Although I will say Mooch is styling as his cone is gray, just like his coat.  

Since Chester would be jealous that Mooch is getting all of the attention despite the fact that Mooch is the sick one, here is a picture of Chester as King of the Castle and apparently almost as long as I am on the couch: