Sack cat

I thought I'd be home just enjoying the hot weather today, but we paid yet another trip to the vet with our Larisa. As I descended the basement stairs this morning to start a load of laundry, I came upon two one-inch-square pieces of damp white plastic grocery sack, with teeth marks. They were resting atop a small damp area on the carpet that looked suspiciously like cat throw-up. I ran up the stairs into the spare room where Larisa sleeps during the day. On the floor near the bed I found the rest of the grocery sack - with eight chewed holes.

Larisa is not sick, does not have a virus, was not so stressed by our absence last week that she was pining for us. No. She just ate some sack, and the pieces are now inside her, at least one of them blocking her digestive system. So she is spending yet another day at the vet while the staff there gives her medication to stimulate her digestive system to push, baby, push, and further gives her heavy duty hairball medication (I'm thinking large glycerine capsules) to lubricate her insides. Hopefully, she'll become slippery, and her own digestive system will push the stuff through. At the same time, Larisa is vomiting helpfully, perhaps intending to get the sack pieces out the other end.

If this doesn't work, she may need exploratory surgery, which we would pay for by trading in our transatlantic cruise planned for next April.

The vet says no one understands why some cats eat foreign objects like sacks and the heads of small action figures. But such a cat is called a "junkie".

Makes me warm and fuzzy to think that I am the Bag Lady and Larisa is the Sack Cat.