So, Our little Gustavo P. Gustufson turned 5 months old a few weeks ago. He is getting so big, but most importantly, it was time to get him neutered.
He wasn't allowed to eat after 8 pm the night before, and if you know Gus Gus, you know that food is his favorite thing, so not eating stressed him out a little.
Believe me, I know how important it is to spay/neuter your pets. Every pet should be a wanted pet, and having a bunch of feral animals walking around does nobody any good, but it is also hard to pack up your beautiful hungry kitten in his plastic crate and hand him over to a stranger, who will give him drugs and cut his balls off, you know? But that's exactly what we did on Thursday morning, and then we went home to stress out about it all day.
They called us at around 2 o'clock to tell us that Gus made it through his surgery just fine, and that we could pick him up around three.
We went for a little bike ride, and then went to North Liberty to pick him up. The anesthesiologist came out and showed us his blood work, then told us he seemed fine after his surgery, except for his little poop incident. Apparently, poor Gus decided to take a gigantic, messy shit all over the place and then roll in it. She said she had never seen a cat do that before. We always did say that Gus was special. Then she apologized for not being able to give him a bath, and just cleaning him up as best they could. Listen, as long as I don't have to clean up my shit stained kitten, I'm totally okay with him being half-assed cleaned off by someone else.
She also told us that Gus was pretty drugged up, and that he shouldn't want to move much, but he definitely shouldn't try to walk up or down stairs in his drug addled condition. She lied to us. He was on deep spaz mode. She told us that we should try to keep him away form our other cats on account of the fact that he smells like the vet's office and his own poop. So, we decided to put him upstairs and then put a very tall piece of wood in front of the stairs, so he wouldn't be tempted to walk up or down them. Yeah, so instead, he found something to climb onto to jump up to the top of the piece of wood, and then jump down from there onto the stairs, where he preceded to run up and down. Damn it.
We then just said, fuck it. We kept him downstairs and watched him around the other cats. They would just stay away from him, or hiss if they saw him two rooms away, or even thought about him.
The next day, Gus finally calmed down and did a LOOOOOOTTTTT of sleeping. It was actually quite peaceful for a day or two.
Now that I'm done singing the ballad of Gus' lost balls, I will remind you to vote...Hopefully, to vote out the super spreader-in-chief. Thank you.
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