When you think of a cat, what comes to mind? For me, it’s purring and fur, warm laps and kitty nose kisses.
Not tonight. We’re having a dark side experience.
Our Bridget is very cute. She’s also lightening fast, a quick paw on the draw. She is our little huntress. Since we adopted her in England, she has loved warm weather when she can hunt and torture, and if she’s lucky, devour bugs.
Tonight she was in her element. She caught an absolutely massive bug (unknown variety) and managed to play, torture, run away and, apparently, eat the smelly winged thing before Kelly and I could get it from her.
I know this because Bridget has spent the the past hour vomiting – a huge production number marked by retching, gagging and jumping as if an alien was bursting out of her – four different times, in four different places in our house. She even managed to vomit all over a rug that I finally cleaned this past weekend.
So now I’m sitting in the dark, typing this post, with a roll of paper towels and a bottle of Resolve next to me in case she gets sick again. There’s only one thing worse than hearing a cat retch while you’re in bed and that’s not hearing it retch and finding out in the morning while stumbling about in the dark.
I know this because both have happened to me.