Cat Tales

I wonder if I’ve ever mentioned my cat on this blog? If not, here goes: I have a cat. (I would say we have one, but every time the cat does something horrible Matt reminds me that I have a cat.)

He was my, our, first child and has taken a serious backseat to Abby over the past 3 1/2 years. So as he’s snuggled up next to me, and Abby is tucked away in her room, I thought I should share a little story about my first love.

I have a cat and his name is Troy. Troy Jr. For all who don’t know me, I have no interest in football or the Dallas Cowboys so no, he isn’t named after Troy Aikman.

He’s actually named after Troy Dyer- the slacker in the 90s movie Reality Bites. As a tiny kitten, I had no idea how fitting the name would be.

You see, when Troy was a few months old, my roommate and I came home to find him foaming at the mouth. Seriously, foaming.

Let me tell you, there is nothing like opening your front door expecting to see a sweet little kitten and instead finding a cat perched on the kitchen counter, staring at you, and foaming at the mouth.

We would have thought he was rabid if he’d ever been let outdoors. And even though we knew he wasn’t technically rabid, the crazed look in his eyes did absolutely nothing to ease our suspicions.

After a few moments of us staring at him and him staring at us, we noticed the wrapper on the counter.

Troy had bit into and through a Nyquil gel capsule.

Our fear of foam quickly turned to panic.

I promise you that if they had tested Nyquil on cats, that stuff wouldn’t have been approved for humans.

We took Troy to the vet where he had his stomach pumped and spent the night being monitored. (I didn’t even know they could pump a cat’s stomach.) I spent the evening wondering if he’d been hungry, curious, or acting out for attention. I’ll never know for sure, but given his namesake, I pick the latter.

Troy came home the next day. A little groggy but with a clean bill of health and a recommendation to keep all medicine out of his reach. We thought it had been a very close call.

The vet either didn’t want to scare us, or didn’t know what to expect because we were given no warning that Troy might be a little different afterwards. It was a few weeks later that we discovered the consequence of his actions: whenever he’s really happy, purring like a helicopter happy, he drools.

You read it right. My cat drools. Like pouring out the sides of his mouth drool. It’s disgusting.

So, that’s my cat’s deepest secret. He’s been living with the shame of drooling like a dog for 10 years now.

But I still love him. And Matt does too (though he’ll deny it if you ask him).

Maybe the next installation of embarrassing cat moments will tell how Kas (Troy’s brother) managed to light his own tail on fire.

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2 Comments to “Cat Tales”

  1. We love that drooler too.

  2. He’s a totally cool cat. And Abby loves him.

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