Yes, I'm talking about the cat.
You know...the one I was falling for this morning?
The one who's picture I changed my profile picture to on Facebook?
Yep...that's the one.
Let's just say that once he "sobered up", he was a wee bit anxious, and began pacing and walking in circles, but wouldn't touch his food or water. I did everything I knew to do to comfort and reassure him that we would be a good family.
And one would think that my Chihuahua would have been the source of stress and anxiety. Not so. Apparently, his former owners had a Bulldog, so interaction with Angel wasn't a problem.
He finally found his "happy place" hunkered down in a quiet, secluded corner of the living room. But when the boys and Darwin got home from their fishing trip...things headed south very quickly. The new, loud voices were more than he could handle, and when Jack headed over to pet him, hissing and teeth baring ensued.
This was not the same cat we dealt with last night. (Albeit he was drunk from a sedative last night), but still....things were not looking good.
And he pretty much wrote his ticket back to the clinic when he tried to bite Darwin through a blanket.
Yep....we had to enlist the help of Kaleigh, vet technician and future veterinarian headed to Auburn University (proud mama moment). She had him caged up and back on the road in no time.
The poor cat has obviously spent too much time being boarded at the clinic. He was still hissing and fighting Kaleigh until she got him into a "kitty condo", where he finally felt at home again, and immediately starting eating and drinking.
It just wasn't meant to be....
And I think Angel is secretly happy to resume her reign as "top dog" around our house.
I'm just sayin'.