My poor cat, Max.  He is a big, lovey, dopey, mamma’s boy of a cat.  He is kind of weird, and very snuggly at times and a little temperamental, and not very smart.  He is my cat Max.  We have Stella too.  She has a higher IQ than most folks in the Bush Administration (though that is not saying much).  But this post is about Max.

Poor Max has a cold.  Have you ever seen a cat with a cold?  Did you even know cats could get colds?  I did not, until I picked him up, and he looked at me with a very lovey concerned face, which then turned into an expression I had never seen before, squinty eyes – pursed lips…and then he sneezed in my face.  Nasty.  Truly.  But a small price to pay (a mere face wash) to help a poor cat with a cold.  Little dude cannot take Robitussin (animal cruelty) or even a Sudafed.  He doesn’t like chicken broth and I think tea is out of the question.  He kind of wanders around sadly meowing and sneezing. 

SO lesson to be learned, be glad you are human.  Being a cat with a cold is really miserable with no remedy but an owner who nearly drops you on your head after you sneeze in her face. 

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