Happy Hairball Day!
Mar. 1st, 2011 06:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
d_aulnoyRejoice, friends, for today marks the passing of an era - or, at least, a truly epic hairball.
See, Sylvie-the-Cat is an incredibly plush cat. Like, if you were to somehow Dr. Moreau the texture of rabbit fur to the denseness of, like, angels dancing on the head of a pin, you'd have Sylvie. The one time I saw her soaked with water, she shrank to half her size. She's not a fluffy cat like a Persian: more like a Chartreuse, or something, and she sheds like a mad bastard. I never used to be The Lady With the Cat Hair, despite having been a cat owner for over a decade: since getting Sylvie, I've invested in a lint brush for every room (and it still isn't enough: I wear a lot more white, now). Yet, despite all this, Sylvie had never had a hairball in the three years she's lived with me.
At least, not successfully.
Oh, she'd try periodically, doing that sadly theatrical dying-swan things cats do when they're horking, but it would never go anywhere ... productive, to employ the terminology that doctors tend to use. She would, however, throw up with alarming frequency, particularly if she'd bolted her food too quickly: I was sufficiently concerned that I bought every hairball remedy on the market and submitted to the necessity of consulting my vet. The conversation went like this:
Me: Doc, I'm worried because my cat throws up all the time.
Vet: .....
Vet: She's a cat.
So! I kept worrying, and dosing her with medicine (for which, did I get a thank-you? I did not: I got a baleful glare). But today, victory was ours! And I do mean, "ours," as I played a role in this. Apparently, in order to get a cat to pass a persistent hairball, you might consider giving it the Heimlich Maneuver.
See, when Sylvie throws up after eating too quickly, she doesn't throw up in the singular. She'll do it four or five times, all in different locations, and all in the least convenient places possible. So, after I dissuaded her from throwing up in J's boots, I spotted her trying to "improve" my briefcase ... and since I'd been en route to the scene of her first crime, I figured I might as well consolidate, so I carried her over and held her in place. Et, voila!
Dude. Disgusting. For proper reference, it was the size of a tampon.
Anyway. Should you ever have such a situation on-hand, be advised!
P.S. - I feel this addresses last month's question about invented holidays. I think I will celebrate Hairball Day by fasting, because, did I mention disgusting? Oversharing is optional.
See, Sylvie-the-Cat is an incredibly plush cat. Like, if you were to somehow Dr. Moreau the texture of rabbit fur to the denseness of, like, angels dancing on the head of a pin, you'd have Sylvie. The one time I saw her soaked with water, she shrank to half her size. She's not a fluffy cat like a Persian: more like a Chartreuse, or something, and she sheds like a mad bastard. I never used to be The Lady With the Cat Hair, despite having been a cat owner for over a decade: since getting Sylvie, I've invested in a lint brush for every room (and it still isn't enough: I wear a lot more white, now). Yet, despite all this, Sylvie had never had a hairball in the three years she's lived with me.
At least, not successfully.
Oh, she'd try periodically, doing that sadly theatrical dying-swan things cats do when they're horking, but it would never go anywhere ... productive, to employ the terminology that doctors tend to use. She would, however, throw up with alarming frequency, particularly if she'd bolted her food too quickly: I was sufficiently concerned that I bought every hairball remedy on the market and submitted to the necessity of consulting my vet. The conversation went like this:
Me: Doc, I'm worried because my cat throws up all the time.
Vet: .....
Vet: She's a cat.
So! I kept worrying, and dosing her with medicine (for which, did I get a thank-you? I did not: I got a baleful glare). But today, victory was ours! And I do mean, "ours," as I played a role in this. Apparently, in order to get a cat to pass a persistent hairball, you might consider giving it the Heimlich Maneuver.
See, when Sylvie throws up after eating too quickly, she doesn't throw up in the singular. She'll do it four or five times, all in different locations, and all in the least convenient places possible. So, after I dissuaded her from throwing up in J's boots, I spotted her trying to "improve" my briefcase ... and since I'd been en route to the scene of her first crime, I figured I might as well consolidate, so I carried her over and held her in place. Et, voila!
Dude. Disgusting. For proper reference, it was the size of a tampon.
Anyway. Should you ever have such a situation on-hand, be advised!
P.S. - I feel this addresses last month's question about invented holidays. I think I will celebrate Hairball Day by fasting, because, did I mention disgusting? Oversharing is optional.