July, 2005:
MEOWWW! MEOWWW! MEOWWW!
Something is wrong. Kylie is tearing, screeching and yowling, back and forth across the apartment. She dives into her litter box, spins around several times, and bounds out, hissing. I'm seated at my computer. She screeches to a halt before me, stands up on her hind legs and puts her paws on my knees.
MEOWWW! MEOWWW! MEOWWW!
I reach down to pet her, but she runs away, starts frantically trying to lick her butt. It doesn't work. Kylie's a little portly; with each attempt, she just flops back onto her side.
MEOWWW! MEOWWW! MEOWWW!
There's an animal hospital around the corner. I've never been there, but, a conscientious (codependent) pet owner, I can't be bothered to call. I scoop Kylie up, wrestle her into her kitty carrier, and rush her straight to the office.
Luckily, there's no wait.
"Hmmm," the vet murmurs, palpating Kylie's abdomen. He turns her, lifts her tail, and acquaints himself with her private parts. "Hmmm," he repeats.
"Hmmm what?" I ask.
In a thick, unfamiliar accent, the vet answers, "Dooah you see theees?"
I lean in. "What?" I ask. "Do I see. . .what?"
The vet motions with his head. "Theeees area. Around her vagina."
I'd looked over Kylie's butt (I'll spare you those details), but I hadn't thought to peruse her vagina.
Guiltily, I crane my neck to view it.
There's one problem with this. I've never taken note of a normal cat's pussy. With no point of reference, the sight of Kylie's vaginal topography tells me nothing.
"Please," I implore the vet. "Just tell me. What do you think is wrong?"
"I believe" (Peruvian? Lithuanian? Welsh?) "that your cat has an inverted vulva."
Bewildered, I pause. "An inverted what?"
"An inverted vulva."
"Oh." Still puzzled, I echo softly, "An inverted vulva."
I glance again toward Kylie's vagina. Now that it's been pointed out, I must admit, it does look a little. . .voluptuous.
I launch questions. The vet answers.
The upshot is this: My cat has a fucked up pussy.
In addition to this, she has a sluggish metabolism. And, if I understand the vet correctly, extra calories will immediately deposit themselves in her cooch.
I have two primary treatment options. One is kitty surgery for $7,361.02. The other is putting Kylie on a special, weight control diet.
Before she can flick an ear, Kylie is on a high quality, weight control diet.
And being taught Kegel exercises.
And lectured about the importance of consistent hydration.
For seven years now, Kylie's pussy has radiated tight, pink, vibrant health that would knock my gynecologist off his feet.
Perhaps I'll post a picture on Facebook.
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