Precarious Perch

This morning, I got up early, and instead of making breakfast for the cats and myself, I grabbed poor, unsuspecting Rani; put her in the carrier box, and drove her to the vet to have her bad tooth extracted. I was allowed to stay with her and help to calm her down until she was under anesthesia. 

Soon after I got home, the vet called with bad news. She didn't just have one rotten tooth, but six, and I had to give him permission to take them all out today. A cat has 30 teeth, so she lost a fifth of her teeth already, and she's not even four years old. Poor Rani.

Two hours later, I went back to pay the (substantial) bill and collect a very tired cat. For the next hours, while she was still very wobbly and disorientated,  I sat with her in the living room; just to make sure she didn't hurt herself. That wasn't easy, as she insisted on jumping up the back of the sofa, and perching there; reminding me of Snoopy on top of his doghouse. 

Today would also have been my father's 99th birthday. But of course, my blip had to be about Rani and her ordeal.