Evil cat has not been as evil as normal, merely malevolent really. So, rather than leave anything to chance dear heart took her to the vets. She tried to run away, she cried, she wriggled, but she was relentlessly examined and there was no escape from the thermometer.
The Vet thought that evil cat was in generally good health for fourteen and a half but asked us to bring her back for a full set of blood and urine tests, what they described as a 'geriatric cat MOT'. It is hard to think of evil cat as geriatric, more old in sin.
Dear heart dropped her off at the vets in the morning, then he went on to work. Evil cat was, well, unco-operative, but they managed to get the blood samples they needed. She resolutely refused to widdle. She was not widdling, she refused. She only takes the wotsit, thank you so much.
Dear heart had a phone call asking if he could come and pick up evil cat early - apparently she was frightened and upset. For all my jokes, I hate the thought of her being frightened and upset, but I have trouble visualising it. She is relentlessly, tirelessly, endlessly aggressive. And poor dear heart couldn't go and get her, which was dreadfully upsetting for him. The poor man was out of the house twelve hours at a manic job then at least another half hour morning and evening travelling time to get evil cat to the vets. He didn't begrudge it, and I think he deserves a medal.
Apparently evil cat has the very tiniest, earliest trace that her kidneys are not working as they should. This is apparently normal in cats of her age. I ensured tuna was put down as soon as she got in and a comfy space by the fire. She was just so timid last night, I was so upset. I was quite relieved when she made up for it today.
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