Divisions and Precisions

Gah!

The cats are going to bankrupt me.

Rumpus HAS TO get his little "operation", like now. He's starting to show some of the less desirable traits of male cats (i.e., he won't get off Pooka's back and I think he's starting to spray periodically). So I called this morning and made the appointment. Come Friday morning, Rumpus says goodbye to his hobbits, and I say good riddance. Unfortunately, I thought my adoption fee covered all of his operation fee. I found out today that no, it only covers about a third of it.

Then I take a good look at Pooka, who has spent the entire morning curled up in my lap, demanding affection. Her eyes are so runny she can barely see. Her nose is runny. And one of her ears is absolutely nasty with earwax, suggesting an ear infection. Call the vet back. Make an appointment for her on Wednesday. I really can't afford this right now. But if I don't do it, I'll feel like the world's worst cat owner. Besides, I had to lock Rumpus in the bathroom again last night because he was so hyper. (Which adds to the "bad cat owner" mentality.) Gah. If all this had just held off until my NEXT paycheck, I wouldn't have worried so much. As it is? Ack.