What a terrible, terrible night.
Backup puked up even more hair ties yesterday morning. It was possible that that was the end of it, but we took him to the vet because we wanted to be sure.
After a very expensive day of barium ingestion and X-rays, we were told the cat had to come in the next day for further tests, but we brought him home with an IV catheter in his arm. I was pretty damn certain that he’d try to tear it out, so they gave me a cone to put around his neck.
Well, the cone did jack shit. After a few hours of writhing around with the cone on, he found a way to reach his arm and tear the catheter’s covering off. Next would be the catheter itself, so I volunteered to “sleep” in the family room where he hangs out and stop him from tearing at it.
At around 3 AM, I was ready to give up, so I let Anna take over the watch… but then I realized he’d probably hate it if I covered what remained of his wrapping in duct tape. Well, I only had electrical tape, but that seemed to do the trick. It’s 7 AM and it’s still in one piece. Although he did find a way to tear his cone off.
In other news, I was looking under the bed and found a third clump of regurgitated hair ties. That probably brings the count up to 20. Bravo, kitty.