Getting into yet another Pickle.

Getting into yet another Pickle.

Friday night seemed like it was going to be a pretty mellow evening. I had stayed home from work because my throat was killing me and didn't really want to spread cooties around my office, and spur yet another round robin tournament of people getting sick and having to stay home too. The only thing Photogal and I had planned for the evening was to see if we couldn't repair the damage that was being done to our couch by a certain kitten who had discovered a way to climb all up inside the sofa and claw away at if from the inside.

So, Photogal got home and we went to turn the couch on its side to get a better look at what was going on, since we knew Pickle the Kitten had shredded part of the bottom covering in orser to gain access to her sofa playground. Unbeknownst to us, as we were flipping the couch backwards, Pickle was actually already inside and had made the decision to exit via a rear escape route she had fashioned. Unfortunately it was midway through her escape that she got pinned underneath the rear of the couch. Photogal and I hear a "MeeeeEERRRRRROOOOWWWW!" and saw two little kitty legs kicking around and struggling. The dogs wen nuts and started to try and nip at the now-trapped kitty butt. Photogal and I freaked and shooed the dogs away and pulled the couch off the kitten.

Pickle ran out of the room (we later discovered that the fact she even ran was an excellent sign). We followed her, hugged her, and were scared because she seemed strangely subdued. Did she break a rip or something? Was there maybe internal bleeding or a squished organ? What to do ?!

Well, I looked up here the closest veterinary emergency room was and we wrapped Pickle up and whisked her off to get checked out. A word about animal emergency rooms? They're just like the human version, right down to depressed people crying and a staff that always seems to want to help out every other "kid" besides your own. (It wasn't until the fifth person walked in and got treated ahead of us that we finally complained, and I think they realized they and just been missing our chart when calling people.)

Well, we finally got in to see a vet, and checked Pickle out, took some x-rays, and determined that she was 100% okay. Apparently our cat is made of the same sort of rubber that four year-old boys are made of. That's my guess at least.

So, $240 later we took her home, put her to bed, and fixed the couch.

Want to see what our kitten looks like from the inside? Here.


ooooOOOOoooohhhh!