Part of what makes me such a great mom is my ability to tolerate pets. To date, in our household we've had several dachshunds, a hermit crab, two pythons, several turtles, a Chinese water dragon, a rescue cat, and a $1000 Bengal cat.
Now, I only mention the cat's pricetag because I didn't buy the exotic cat. Lauren's daddy did. And not long after Lauren got her, the cat came down with what the vet called the nastiest case of trichonomads she had ever seen. A parasite only found in purebred cats, trichonomads cause the most unbelievable cat diarrhea imaginable – “malodorous” is the word used in the Vet Talk newsletter article provided by our doctor. And the veterinarian explained that there are only two possible treatments: wait it out, and the parasites will eventually work their way out of her system, or treat her for two weeks with a carcinogen that is dangerous for humans and can cause neurological disorders and liver disease in the cat.
How long until it worked its way out of her system, I wanted to know.
“Two years,” the vet replied, actually wincing as she said it. I asked if the dogs or we humans were susceptible to the parasite, and I swear this is what she said, “It’s actually a sexually transmitted disease in cattle.”
So where, o where had my slutty cat been? Was she attracted to barnyard animals, this extremely expensive pussy? According to Vet Talk, the parasites are also “inhabitants of the porcine gastrointestinal and nasal mucosa,” so there is the possibility that the cat Lauren’s daddy purchased for her had a thing for pig snot.
Needless to say, I opted for the carcinogenic treatment and began plotting how I could slip massive amounts of vodka into the cat’s drinking water without Lauren’s knowledge. Please don’t get me wrong. I love kitty cats. But a cat with a sexually transmitted parasite that manifests as massive piles of malodorous shit? That’s not a pretty kitty. It’s a tainted pussy.
Bella survived the treatment and within a few weeks was parasite-free. But not long after that, this very expensive, very exotic pussy went into heat. And the problem with that was she had already been spayed. In fact, the vet had theorized that the trauma from the surgery had triggered the outbreak of trichomonads, which had probably been latent in her system since weaning. "See, I'm not interested in how this happened, just what you're going to do about it," I explained to the vet.
The kitty was now camped by the door trying to escape the house. The little slut. And the vet was insisting that it was "impossible" that she was in heat. We were at a stalemate over this wayward pussy. That's when I called Lauren's daddy, who had already demonstrated a penchant for pricey pussy, and told him to come get the damn cat. I was done. My days as most tolerant pet mom on the planet were officially over!