My poor little cat, named "Cat," hasn't been feeling well the past few days. The little fella has the trots. Besides ruining a blanket, and making me slightly less hungry for bean dip, the vet says he should be ok.
I bought the chips, Cat did the rest.
Cat's having a rough week. He's the bravest little fudge factory I've ever seen. Actually he gets a terrified look in his eyes right before he squirts. It's like he's saying "Why God? Why?"
This is pretty much what's been going on: