“I’m sorry,” the vet said, “but it looks like Chewie’s teeth are in pretty rough shape.”
Hang on, what? I mean, he had bad nutrition and little care before we got him, but he’s not that old.
“See this line of tartar, and the inflammation in his gums?”
I could indeed see that. That’s why we asked about a cleaning.
“We won’t know how bad it is until we get him under and take x-rays, but it’s possible we may need to remove some teeth.”
Ruh-ro. That sounded not great.
We made an appointment. The day arrived. Today is that day.
/cue dramatic montage of us packing up a cranky cat, delivering said cat, and distractedly working while waiting for word on the cat
The phone rings.
“He’s fine.”
Phew.
“Only one tooth was very bad so we’ve removed it. He’ll need a couple of weeks with just wet food, pain management, and of course, cuddles.”
That we can do.
And this, gentle reader, is my cat story for the day. Join me later for the inevitable followup, “Shameless Cat Exploits Injury to Extort Excessive Number of Treats from Family.”
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J.R. Johnson 
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