Last week Sammy went to the groomer for the first time since June. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe not, but over the weekend his, um, glands got abscessed. Sunday, he had to spend all day in his cage so that he wouldn’t bleed all over the furniture. Monday Rachelle took him to the vet, who inserted a drain, cleaned his teeth and pulled a baby tooth. Since then he’s had to wear the cone of shame and, for the first couple of days, diapers.
Ah, the indignity.
He’s been spending all day in the bathroom to help calm him down, and so that he doesn’t scoot around on his tush and rip open his glandular area. Rachelle takes him back to the vet on Friday to get the drain removed. He’ll be thrilled to be allowed back on the couch. We may even let him sleep on the bed.
Can we humiliate him any more?
