Bionic Poisioning, or where I use every synonym for puke that I know

Pet love must be measured in dollars and cents. That’s the only explanation for why I just spent a lot of money (by which I mean enough to pay for at least two and a half pairs of Jimmy Choos and maybe a martini thrown in for good measure) on Bionic Kitty’s recent vet run. I really think that cat is testing me. She must not have gotten over the arrival of Number Two yet and this is her revenge. Or maybe she just wants to see how much more bionicness I will pay for before I let her take her chances.

At some point the other night, it appears Bionic Kitty decided she needed a snack. Having three totally full food bowls available and recently having consumed a helping of cat treats just didn’t do it. Nope, she needed to eat the festive plant life. Perhaps as a digestive aid? Regardless, poinsettias are poisonous and Bionic Kitty was on a suicide mission. She apparently ate an entire plant: flower, stem, leaves, and some roots…

I had happily finished up season five of Dawson’s Crick (Joey/Dawson/Pacey continue their love triangle while simultaneously dating their other friends a la Melrose or perhaps early Guiding Light) and was on my way upstairs to go to bed. In what I can only describe as a disgusting experience for my toes, I learned that the steps had some kitty stomach fluid that was not in the kitty stomach to which it belonged. At that point, I pretty much freaked because I don’t deal with vomit, especially when I step in it. Let me repeat: I DO NOT deal with vomit. For me, cleaning it takes a mental exercise akin to convincing a woman that childbirth is on par with a hang nail. In fact, my number two criteria for a potential spouse (right after “does he make me laugh?” and above “can he deal with my mother?”) is his willingness to clean up any and all forms of stomach related sickness. Nope, I don’t do vomit. So it was pretty unfortunate for me when I noticed that one of my cats had been sick on my stairs. It became unfortunate for my neighbors when I realized she had been sick over my bed, my laundry hamper, my bathroom floor, my bath mat, my toilet, my shower stall, my desk, my office floor, my bedroom floor, the cat bed, the hallway, every door on the second floor including closet doors, and on my favorite black pumps. I think it was seeing the shoe casualty that made me start screaming hysterically…

Once I recovered from the trauma of a puke filled house, I noticed that Bionic Kitty was laying on the floor engaged in an episode of cat-projectile-vomiting. (I didn’t know they could do that.) She even let out the occasional meow that I now realize was a plea for her life. At that point, I knew the only way I was going to make the upchuck stop was if I called the vet. Normal Vet said this was dire, that I need to call the Super Special Emergency 24 Hour Vet. So I did and he told me to get the Bionic Barfer in STAT. “But um, she’s going to puke in my car,” I wailed. Long story short, it came down to the cleanliness of my car or my cat, and considering there was vomit involved, Bionic Kitty is darn lucky. I scarified 6 towels and every piece of bed linen I had to her cause. On the way out of the house, I noticed the poinsettia had been mauled.

It seems that poinsettias and cats with a tendency to eat stuff just aren’t the ideal combination. According to the vet, a poinsettia will probably kill a cat if they eat it and not many cats can forgo the holiday goodness represented by the poinsettia. It’s like the cat version of Christmas cookies, but laced with arsenic. But of course my cat did not die — oh no! She’s a Bionic based life form and thus she will survive anything if I’m willing to pay enough to keep her around.

After a night of Vet Fun and a serious depletion of the Shoe Dedicated Bank Account, I finally got to bring Bionic Kitty back to a house filled with cat vomit. However, Number Two had decided to munch on in the puke in our absence. My first reaction to this was along the lines of “yuck” but quickly became “call vet poison control in case of secondary poinsettia poisoning.” Seems Number Two is pretty hardy and suffered no ill effects from eating the stomach regurgitation, aside from especially bad breath and my gratitude for helping with the clean-up process.

Today I found some more poinsettia parts in my living room that Bionic must have stored away for a rainy day treat. Needless to say, they immediately joined the 6 rolls of paper towels used in Operation Sanitize in the big dumpster out back.

That cat is living on borrowed time. And the limit of my credit card.


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