Droopy.

*Warning: This is a depressing post because today's events were... um, depressing.*

Tomorrow is Dan's birthday. And we're not going to celebrate... no. Instead we're going to drive back up to Indianapolis and (hopefully) pick up our poor little kitty.

Our new kitten, Ben, had a bad reaction to his vaccines today. Out of nowhere he had a tiny seizure several hours later and couldn't stand up all the way after that. We got Ben on Monday. He's a 5 month old, 4 lb. seal point Siamese guy - picture perfect at that with his little triangle-shaped head. Lovey and beautiful. Even the vet techs said so this morning. One lady told me he looks like he stepped out of the pictures from a cat breed book. And now he's an hour away up in Indianapolis for observation because the vet that saw him today wouldn't help him. I'm SO mad. He's so little and so sweet. If they had taken the time to do a blood test first, he would be okay. He didn't even need booster shots, but the vet was insistent and I thought to myself, 'Well, he would know better than me. What can happen?' And now Dan and I have to sit here without our kitty, hoping they call and say he can come home tomorrow night. It was awful driving an hour both ways, worrying he's paralyzed or dying or not going to be the same or going to hate us for all of this. Now we have to do it again tomorrow or Friday. There AND back. It's so frustrating. And the bill isn't going to be much comfort when we get it, either. I wish I'd never agreed to the shots and I'm not going to let them give him anything else. Even if that means he can't have his neuter surgery. We're just not going to chance it.

I promise not to be this unhappy next time unless he doesn't get better. But obviously I've got my fingers crossed that this will never happen again and when we go pick him up he's going to be cuddly and normal. Gotta go. Thanks for listening.