This was one more thing I didn't need today; Toffee has forgotten his stove adventure.
Yes, it was that kind of day.
It started at breakfast. The cats each had a raw medallion of lamb (Nature's Variety Instinct Frozen). We were starting a new bag of a new flavor. Minutes after finishing, Harris threw up everything. The sound woke me up and got me out of bed. My husband cleaned it up while I checked on Harris. He seemed a little stunned but otherwise okay. It's probably a fluke, I decided. Then Possum threw up his breakfast, in three locations, including the fringe of a Persian rug. I cleaned that up.
With two sick cats, I was scared. This never happens around here. We used to have a cat who threw up every day, but that was when we were blithely feeding her crappy, "vet-approved" kibble from Hill's.
The new food must be bad. I checked the bag; it looked fine. No ice, no discoloration, no signs of thawing. But something had to be wrong with it. I kept an eye on everyone for a couple of hours; they seemed fine. I went off to be tortured at physical therapy. It was excruciating. Then I did errands and came home to discover our that the inside of our building looked like Dresden after the bombing.
We are redecorating the lobby: installing recessed lights, repairing terrible cracks, painting, and replacing the carpet. When the electrician was installing the lights a couple of weeks ago, he discovered that the ceiling on my floor is falling apart. So workmen came today to remove ceilings. When I got home, they were both outside, taking a breathing break. One escorted me in, through a cloud of white dust, and helped me pass under huge sheets of plastic. We picked our way through rubble until I got to my apartment. I was covered in dust.
I brushed myself off, sealed our door with painter's tape and spent the afternoon inside, listening to mayhem and gasping in the hall. I get asthma when conditions are bad enough, so I located my inhaler and discovered it had expired 18 months ago. Oh, well. I couldn't very well go out for a new one so I took a shower.
The cats had lunch, from a can. Harris and Possum were extra hungry. Harris likes to rub his head adorably against my leg as he waits for his dish to make it to the floor; the other boys swarm at my feet, crying. I must have been taking too long because Harris decided to nip my backside.
When I stopped laughing, I lectured him. I'm sure he knew what I was getting at.
The folks at the pet store were stumped about the vomiting and apologized, although it wasn't necessary. They'll credit me for the bag against a big order of canned food I placed. I'll still be feeding raw, but sticking to poultry flavors. Everyone loves them.
The workmen are gone, as is the ceiling. They'll return tomorrow for more of same; we expect at least a week of mess. When the dust settles a little more, I'll unseal the door and get up my new inhaler.
At least we have deliciously cool, cloudy weather, so much better than a heat wave. And we appear to have four healthy cats and a roof over our heads, if not a ceiling.