Poor Istar. He didn’t get to come home until 8:30pm. I’m not sure what would have happened had I not gotten a bit cross with the staff. At 8:00pm, I had been waiting in the waiting room for over an hour and they had told me that he hadn’t yet been seen because they couldn’t get him to come out of the crate. There had been several emergencies taken ahead of him, which I totally understand, and there was a grieving family who had just decided to put their puppy to sleep due to parvovirus. I was crying, they were crying, and all I wanted to do was get Istar home. They took me to the back to see if I could coax him out of the crate, and no sooner had I said, “There’s my little guy!” that he jumped out of the crate into my arms.

The vet stopped what he was doing to come over to see Istar. I don’t know if he was mad at me for (rather rudely) asking to have my cat, or if he was apologetic for making Istar wait over 12 hours to be seen, but he stopped me from leaving to examine Istar and give him a shot for what he thinks is a small asthmatic incident. Well, damn. Once again, my actions have sent him to vet. It was probably a combination of smoke and anti-smoke candles that did him in. I’ve already begun eliminating all sources of typical irritants and hopefully, we won’t have any more problems.

They were able to weigh Istar before crating him, and DAMN! He weighs 15.2 lbs. He now weighs more than Hobbit ever did, but he carries it better. The vet wasn’t even concerned about it, but did say to not let him get any bigger. Hobbit, for the record, is down to about 12 lbs. and looking svelte!

P.S. Flash Gordon is possibly the worst show I’ve ever seen.