tiredI took Gracie in the house and lured KittyKitty to me and then took him in the house. Actually he ran out from under my car, I assume trying to get away from his tail. Then he went and hid under my grandma's bed. So I thought about trying to deal with the beasties on my own but decided that I ought to call the vet. I wouldn't have had enough hands to do it on my own. They managed to fit me in and I told them I could make it in a half hour. But then KittyKitty wouldn't come out from under the bed. I coaxed and launched projectiles at him. Finally I had to poke him out with the broom. I felt guilty but he needed to go and he wouldn't come out!
We got there and the doctor, an assistant and I held him while it all got done. The assistant had his front half, I had his back legs, and the Dr. had his tail. He shaved it, poured on peroxide and blotted and then started tweezing them out. And tweezing them out. I got some myself when the Dr. went to get something. They seemed to be gone and then I saw a few more squirming out. Bleah. So awful. And of course KittyKitty hated all this.
Now he has a pill to take tomorrow, had Frontline put on tonight, has liquid antibiotic to take, some antibiotic spray to have on several times a day and he has to stay in. To keep the flies off of him.
Poor KittyKitty.
