"Areow!" Gunnar was crying the loudest I'd ever heard him last night.
"Are you dying?" I yelled back.
Gunnar (pictured above with Mojo who is NOT hurting him) is a very vocal cat, so crying loudly is nothing new. He likes to sit on the top of the stairs and do this every night around the same time. He's just talking or asking for play or cuddles. This was loud and persistent so I needed to check. I scooped him up.
"Mom, I'm sick," he whined. (Yes, I speak cat—sometimes). He promptly started to gag and hack, so I put him down so he wouldn't throw up on me. He hurled and I pet him.
He threw up seven more times after that—eight times in all. It was a combo of fur, stomach acid and bits of fake plant. See, I know he likes to eat my fake plants so I put them away. I just forgot that I put one away in the bathroom cabinet and he can open cabinets. The fake plant is now in the garage.
I just thought it was cute that he told me he was sick. Apparently, I don't have a 14-pound Manx cat, I have a toddler that can open cabinets, put everything in his mouth and even tells me when he's sick.
