Total Grossarama

I ask Scott what to do.

He says to open the door and let her run out. 

Ha ha. Very funny.  Why don't I just hold the door for you, smart ass?

I call the Vet. Miraculously, they answer on Saturday night at 9. These are some boring pet lovers. The person who answers seems very nice.

I tell the person on the phone what is happening. Then I back up and tell her the whole story from the point of discovering the bat.  I tell her the evil Dr. Tyson took lots and lots of condemning notes if she wants a good read. 

She is still very nice even after I've disclosed that I am a nincompoop and an unfit pet owner. I shouldn't even have plants.

She tells me that there is probably not a lot they can do.  I could bring her in but unless it is really life threatening, I could avoid a steep Emergency visit and just bring her in tomorrow. She gives me an appointment.

I am sure Trinket could hack off her own head with those claws but I am fairly confident that it won't happen tonight.

Scott and I turn in for the night, taking the oozy, scratching feline with us.

I am overwhelmed with guilt. I did this. If I were a better parent none of this would have happened. Why did I let her vaccinations lapse?  I take better care of my car and I don't even care about my car.

I cry quietly and Scott lays there next to me trying to figure out how to console his hysterical girlfriend and still get a little shut-eye. 

Morning comes.   We have breakfast. Trinket scratches some more. I get dressed and get ready to go.  Trink is supposed to still be quarantined so I can't take anyone with me for moral support. My cover would be blown. I can't actually comply with anything.

I get to the vet's office. A nice tech comes out to greet us. She lets Trinket out of the carrier and picks her up in her ungloved hands.

I am freaking out!!!!  "Aren't you afraid of rabies?" I shriek.  She looks at me like I might have them - and I've got the addles brain to prove it.

"No, I'm vaccinated." 

Well goody for you. Your mother must be a very good one.

She puts Trinket down and returns with Dr. Hoffmeir.  She is a little, rotund older lady with gray curls. I am certain she is wicked.

I am wrong.

She bops into the room gushing! "Oh just look at this gorgeous cat!  Those eyes!  What a beauty!  And such a pretty coat. What seems to be the trouble, my little darling?"

I am so relieved I could cry.