Cat Pissed Off; Owner Pissed On.

That's how the headline of this long-overdue story would read.

I've mentioned Truman's medical ailments before, as they've been ongoing since the summer. In a nutshell, he scratched a wound into his throat, and he would keep re-opening it and refuse to let it heal. It would get better, then it would get bad again. I've been in and out of the vets and spent large sums of money on medication. I've spent more money on doctors for the cat in the past year than I've spent on them for myself in the last 10.

I hit a point a few weeks ago where I thought enough's enough. I'd tried using an E collar before (the comical lampshade collar you see on dogs in cartoons), but Truman always managed to get it off, and I'd become a complete pushover when I'd see how much he hated it. This time, the thing had to stay on until the wound was 100% totally and completely healed.

I went to the vet last Saturday, and we secured the collar on Truman. He was also given steroid and antibiotic injections, and a two week supply of antibiotics.

When we got home, Truman was a mess, and per the typical, he removed the collar within an hour, this time by wedging it between the bed and the wall. Son of a bitch can be a little Houdini when he needs to be.

That night, I put the collar back on, and Truman sat like a little lump on the kitchen floor. I scooped him up when I was getting ready for bed and laid him down next to me. Then, I fell asleep. I slept for a good half hour until I was awoken by Truman walking around swinging his lampshade head. I'd pet him and try to fall back asleep.

At 3:30 in the morning, Truman climbed onto my chest. I pet him, and he purred. We were both happy. We were bonding. He felt warm atop me. In seconds, he felt very warm. In a few more seconds, I realized with shock that Truman had just unloaded a very full bladder all over me. I jumped out of bed, while Truman just laid there, oblivious to what had happened. I threw away the shirt, as nothing could ever salvage it. I found myself thanking God that the cat had pissed on me rather than the mattress. The smell was overwhelming.

Some folks would have thrown the cat out into the winter night at that point, but I'm not some folks. I'm a man who knows responsibility, dammit. I showered, and then I threw Truman in the bathroom for the rest of the night. I stripped the bed, because though the brunt of his bladder had gotten on me, tiny drops on the sheets were still emitting a powerful smell. I tried to go back to sleep, and couldn't.

The next morning, I let him out of the bathroom, and he promptly laid still under the kitchen table. When I went to put him back in the bathroom to go to church, I found that he had pissed all over the kitchen floor and was just lying in it.

So, though it's been breaking my heart, Truman's home for the last week has been the bathroom. And, after visiting the vet yesterday, it will continue to be so for the next week, as well.

His neck is getting a lot better, though, so hopefully this "tough love" will do the trick.