Last year at Thanksgiving time, one of our house guests ended up in the emergency room, not due to the food but to other health issues he had. This year, because of a book deadline looming among other things, we opted for a quiet Thanksgiving with no guests and we had hoped no emergency room visit. Alas, poor Nee Nee started having a diabetic episode around 12:15. I had just finished working out in hopes of fighting off some of the dinner I was about to chow down on, when I noticed he was walking around the living room like he had no idea where the heck he was at. This is not the first time this has happened, so we sort of know the drill by now, and we have unfortunately gotten to know the staff at the emergency pet care clinic. You don't even want to know how much it costs. But, what is a cat mommy to do?
He ended up having the stay the night as they pumped him with something to bring him down to normal levels, and as you can see by the picture above, he was home the next day with a not too happy look on his face. He was fine but very needy, making sure that either my DH or I were in the same room as he was all day. I must have picked him up to smooch a hundred times that day, and he just never could get enough.
"That place is a bad, bad place!" he told me.