Dammit, dammit, dammit, DAMMIT! Fucker.
To explain this little outburst, let me relate some history. When we first got/found/rescued/incarcerated Greebo, the poor li'l darlin' had earmites (and, yes, my Greebo does qualify as a li'l darlin'. He's a mighty hunter trapped in a tiny kitty body). Aww... well, we took him to the vet, I got accustomed to digging strange things out of his ears, and he got better. But, before he went and got better, he passed them on to Sputnik.
We bought some over the counter ear drops for him, but no... persistent itching abounds. Dad keeps saying we're going to take him to the vet, yes indeed. But, nope, hasn't happened yet. So today I decide to take a good look at what he's been scratching at all this time.
Suffice to say, it was disgusting. His ears smelled awful. Goop was coming out, caking in his fur. I never even imagined. Greebo never had more then a little bit of black stuff around the edges that I could get rid of with a cotton swab. I had to dampen a washcloth to get some of the crap to come off. Then I found that ear medicene and practically had to lay on top of him while I held his head still to get the fucking stuff in. I'm so sorry, Sputter. This should NOT have gone on this long. Every single goddamned day my father says "He needs to go to a vet" but he never calls
. I'd call, but I'm not the one with the credit card.
I HATE IT when he does this. Grrrr...
And this test result doesn't fit right at the moment....
But, in general, it's accurate.