Our cat Saki is back from his surgery to remove the little plastic nub he had idiotically swallowed. Idiot. He seems to be doing fine, a little dazed, but not messing with his scar or having any troubles. Part of the substantial bill included morphine; unfortunately, it was for him and not R Man and me, although considering how much we paid, it seems like we could have gotten at least a small bump.
He has a tiny, little purple scar on his belly. If you’ve never seen a partially shaved cat, you’ll have to take my word for it that they are both pathetic and pretty funny looking. R Man and I try to pretend we’re some Barbara Stanwyckian broads and talk tough about what a pain Saki is, but having him spend the night in the vet hospital revealed our true doting old aunties’ nature. How embarrassing.