The Cat Days of Summer

I'm about to take my cat in for a follow-up appointment at the vet. Always a fun time, complete with constant meowing in the car ("Fine! You pick the goddamn radio station!") and a visit to a vet who baby talks to Opie like he doesn't understand a goddamn thing about this hollow and wicked world. Let me tell you, vet lady, I know you mean well but this son of a rascal is old enough to drink in human years and doesn't need any coddling.

Sadly, Opie seems to be running down, like a watch that can only tick for so long. He's lost two pounds, as of a month ago, and that's like if I suddenly lost 50 pounds for no apparent reason. I'm having more trouble getting him to eat his cat treats and dry food and doesn't seem to care about drinking water as much, either. I know animals do this-I've read short stories and poems about the gentle ebb of life and shit like that. But Opie is too cool to go out like this-I always expected him to go out in a blaze of glory, just like I expected the TV show "Deadwood" to end. Instead, it was canceled too early and we never got to see how the original, wooden framed Deadwood actually burned to the ground...

But it's not over till it's over, Opie!


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