Spidey went in for a dental today and I was worried he might die. A big leap, I know, but my parents had a perfectly healthy cat die under anesthesia and once a vet told me that Spidey might have a wierd heart.
Well, Spidey’s heart is fine and now that he’s had SIX teeth extracted, he’s fine. He’s on his catnip yoga mat now, trying to get the last of the blood off of his nose. And making sure that I don’t have any more tricks up my sleeve. He’ll have a spoonful of soft food tonight and a little water, by tomorrow he should be fine. The vet showed me the rotted teeth–apparently it wasn’t so much an extraction as a falling out.
His teeth were very, very bad on the roots. Turns out I go to the same vet as my next door neighbor and as the guy from temple with the 12 year old golden. We talked about that dog’s health and how sad it is. He’s got a big tumor, but a lot of life in him. Now his owner has to choose chemo or surgery or nature. I can’t imagine having to make that choice.
Gratefully, I don’t–cause Spideyface just had some rotten teeth.