Last night, despite the no balls in the bedroom rule, Chessie ate nearly an entire tennis ball. I have no idea where he got it from. He apparently has ball-dar....
Needless to say, he barfed the majority of that onto my bedroom floor this morning, and later, when I thought he was doing his usual whining about not playing ball during every waking moment, he squatted and deposited a pool of liquid onto the carpet in my bedroom. There were little pieces of rubber in that too.
So, he has the runs again, and I have spent the day running him outside, cleaning up accidents, and making him a ton of chicken and rice for the week. His vet is off today, but I have a call in to her, so that she can give us more of the pro-biotic sprinkles for his food.
Obi is enjoying quiet time with the living room cats, and has declined several invitations to join Chessie and I outside, or in the bedroom. Strangely (not), he did appoint himself as kitchen guard while rice and chicken were being cooked, and meat was being pulled off of the bone.
The fattest tiny cat in the house, Oliver, has been attempting to plant himself into every load of warm laundry entering the bedroom today. So far, I'm winning.
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