Fortunately, this could not be further from the truth around the house. Michael and I both know things are going to change dramatically once the twins arrive, which means we've both been spending as much time as possible with our furry feline. While it is obvious who our priorities will be in the upcoming months, we're both hoping it's a smooth(ish) transition and not one where we have to choose sides.
Lately Thumbs has been having coughing fits, which I researched heavily (Michael banned me from Web MD but never mentioned anything about Thumbs). The only thing I found was Feline Asthma, which I'd never heard of before. On top of the coughing, she has been ralphing more than usual and hasn't had the voracious appetite she's so well known for. Monday morning I woke up to her throwing up yet again and decided it was time to take her to the vet. I made an appointment and then drove to WalMart at 7:30 am to get some wet food. In case you're curious, the WalMart crowd is even stranger in the early hours. You're welcome.
I fed her and she ate enough to make me feel a bit better. 15 minutes before her appointment I began to gather my things, couldn't find her and started to panic. I went up and down the stairs three times, looking in her normal spots and coming up short. I called Michael and he told me to check under our bed, which I'd already done twice. I did it once more and lo and behold, there she was in the center completely out of arm's reach. At this point I was already out of breath and 1,000 degrees. Trying to get a cat out from under a bed is difficult, trying to do so while you are 26 weeks pregnant with twins and worn out is impossible. I begged and pleaded (oddly enough, that did not work) and then I started BAWLING. I was so frustrated. By some glorious act of God I was finally able to remove her from under the bed and rushed her to the vet.
Now, this cat HATES the vet. LOATHES. DESPISES. I put her down on the scale and from that moment on she either hissed or did this guttural moan that always makes me question her femininity. The doctor ended up taking a chest x-ray and performed blood work-up. Thumbs was a less than stellar patient, per usual. Several hours later they showed me the x-ray, which was (thank God) free from tumors and anything resembling feline asthma. Her heart did have a funny shape, which caused the vet to send it off for a second opinion. Not to make light of a serious/sad matter but an x-ray of a cat, and a fat one at that, is downright crazy. It actually made me think of Biggest Loser when they do the body scan of the competitors and show all of the fat that's pushing against their organs. Poor Thumbs McGee was in the same boat. And to top it off you see these tiny little arms and legs poking out of one huge torso. Sigh.
End result? She's fine. She does have fatty deposits around her heart (poor Thumbs) but the radiologist agreed her lungs are clear and she is cancer/asthma free. Blood work-up came back great. Their only guess is hairballs. Who knew? Each time I mentioned feline asthma to Michael he laughed so I spent most of my time trying to convince him it's a real thing. His response? "Well thank God she has thumbs in case she needs to use an inhaler." Very funny.
Strangely enough, the last vet bill this expensive came a month before our wedding when Thumbs tried to be Super Cat. Now we're at a little more than two months before the babies arrive and we're feeling a strange sense of deja vu. I'm starting to wonder if we don't give this cat enough credit.
As far as the twins are concerned Thumbs is still as cuddly as ever, though she has a much harder time getting comfortable on my belly. The other night she actually got stuck--her arms were on one side of my stomach and her legs on the other with neither touching the bed (think of a seesaw). It was hilarious though she got a bit panicky. She also doesn't seem very interested in the nursery, which is fabulous.
I know things will change once Jude and Sloane arrive but I sure do love our firstborn and I have a sneaky suspicion her dad feels the same way.
Proud dad introducing Thumbs to the groomsmen
My current view
Thumbs trying to hug her siblings. A few minutes later Jude punched her in the face.
She ADORES my shoes. I think this pair confused her (she doesn't understand "faux").
Practicing telepathy with the twins.
Woke up from a nap with a Kate Gosselin 'do
She's quite the poser.