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.