Inches of snow that fell in my yard this weekend: 9

Inches of poop that came out of Buttonsworth after one enema at the emergency vet on Saturday: 6

Inches of poop remaining in Buttonsworth now: 6

Number of enemas the emergency vet wanted to give him: 5

Amount the emergency vet would charge for this service: $918

Amount I paid to get him one enema and subcutaneous fluids: $166

Number of times Buttonsworth would have died this weekend if he hadn't had an enema: 1

Number of enemas Buttonsworth has had in the past three weeks: 7 and counting

Amount of money we have spent on vets and medicine for Buttonsworth this month: $674.41 and counting

Number of months we have owned Buttonsworth: 4

Number of weeks we are giving him on a new medicine to see if we can get his colon to work: 2

Number of weeks he has been on insulin: 4

Number of hearts in this house that will be broken if the new medicine doesn't work: 3

Number of cats that will be left: 1

Number of cats my daughter desperately wants: 2

Chances of getting a second cat if Buttonsworth dies based on my husband's feelings: 0%

Number of vet trips in the past seven days: 3

Number of posts on Surrender, Dorothy in the past seven days: 2

Number of days I've wanted to crawl back in bed within twenty minutes of getting out of it: 7

I knew something was fishy the moment she approached me. She NEVER sits on the couch in the morning. She's always running this way and that, muttering "LATE! LATE!" even when she works from home in that stupid leather chair I can't fit into behind her. (I have tried. Nonadjustable arms.)

But she patted the seat beside her, all nice and cooing, and I, like an idiot, walked right into it. She grabbed me and he held open some sort of gauche gym-bag-looking-wannabe-designer-cat-bag thing. He stuffed me in headfirst. I was so totally pissed. HISS.

I will wait until they sleep. Then I will sit on their chests and breathe menacing breaths until they wake up.

Then I will wait for them to fall asleep and DO IT AGAIN.

She drove me to the vet and left me there for five hours. WITH OTHER ANIMALS. I hate other animals.  And she should never leave me like that.

Because maybe. Just maybe? I was a little bit scared.

HISS.

Then the stupid vet said something about "fecal test" and also told me I have a cavity and have to have a tooth extracted AT A LATER DATE. Which means I HAVE TO COME BACK.

But next time ... next time, I will see her coming.

Fuck you.