Ken had a meeting this evening out near where our vet is, so he picked up Lucy on the way home. My poor baby. She's a mess. She's staggering. She's stumbling. When I look at her face, she looks all hopped up on goofballs. She's definitely not herself, and I think I'm happy about that. Lucy usually cries (and/or caterwauls) when she's in the car. The entire way. At the top of her lungs. Ken said she barely spoke on the way home tonight, and when she did it was the most pathetic attempt at meowing. I'm glad I wasn't in the car because I would have bawled the whole way home. She's currently locked in the back mudroom & bathroom, away from Ollie. She's supposed to be separated from him for the time being. It'll probably be about 24 hours before she's feeling herself again, we're told. She's not thrilled about being locked in the back, but it's for her own good. Ollie is curious as shit about her. He hasn't moved from the door separating them since she got home. I have a feeling he's going to be spending the night there, too. I just hope she sleeps it off.
I love my babies more than I can say.