As it turns out, there was a rash of Unhappy Cats at the clinic that day, too. Miry is very musical about her dislikes, and I’m told her displeasure was made known, to the point where she was directing a chorus of miauows, evidently to the score of the “1812 Overture”. Having her throat operated on was the only thing that would shut her up! And when I got there to pick her up… what a sight. You know the mane you see on a lion? Picture it in reverse: neck shaved down to bare skin, and elsewhere her medium-length coat. And a comparatively shortened temper to match; when I picked her up and asked if she was ready to go home, that dirty look plainly said, “Mom… You just got demoted to “Junkyard Dog” status.” Not happy, at all.
But Miry is a slave to her stomach; I got her home and set out her favorite food, and she made a beeline. :D Not eating much; the vet said she would be fine, but I bet her throat hurts a lot. She could only eat a piece or two and had to stop for a bit, then go back and repeat the process. The other cat was so happy to see her home, I had to pull her off a few times so that she didn’t disturb the stitches. Eventually we’ll settle back into domestic tranquility, and I will balance out the budget again to accommodate this unexpected expense.