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Taz is spending the night in a luxury oxygen cage with lots of soft blankets under her and bags of IV fluid.

What's wrong with her you might ask?

So far the answer is: nothing. Bloodwork? Normal. Ridiculously expensive chest x-rays? Normal.

Not normal: breathing too fast (100 breaths per min) and a mild cat fever (103.8).

So it looks like I may be spending thousands and thousands of my hard earned money to realize that there is nothing wrong with my cat other than that she might have eaten something that didn't agree with her.

And that her owner is cuckoo.

Why do I do this to myself. I hope it makes me feel better though, just to know that she IS okay.

And when will my sleeping pills finally kick in.

Labels: Make Joyce go something something, Taz