|Espresso, "Yeah I'm getting you for this!"|
|Espresso, "Step on it, will ya?"|
|Charlie, "Gus, this is not gonna end well, you know that, right?"|
Espresso got an early visit for this checkup at the V. E. T. this week. He was doing fine M*nd*y night, and by Tuesday morning something changed. He kept hiding in the corners and wouldn't care for any treats. Out came the carrier, the hoomin scrambled and off they went.
Sure enough, he was in some trouble. He got stuffed up a bit in the GI track. He got medicine, and the vet took an X-ray. It turned out there was no serious blockage. Espresso kept eating and was doing well, but he was refusing to poop.
When he returned home later that day, the hoomin kept him in the carrier capsule and went to clean up around the bin area and, of course, change the bin. As soon as Espresso got out of the carrier, he decorated the bin with a nice load of pellets. He's been doing well since then.
That's when I noticed his old bin resting by the barrier. Well, Charlie and I were most fascinated by it. Never mind the two bins in our room. This bin was it! Somehow I managed to weasel through the gate. I'm not sure how I did it, and neither is our hoomin.
I tried to make friends with the murderist, but it didn't last long, and I was back with Charlie in no time. Sigh, ... one day, one day I tell ya, Spresser I are going to be the best of friends.
We'll keep you posted,