crys-tal [kris-tl], verb, -talled, -talling.
To worry excessively over a minor ailment, typically pet-related.
|Maisy, bored stiff at the vet clinic.|
I am a terribly worrier. About everything, really, but things tend to intensify when it’s pet-related. It’s so bad that a good friend actually created a word to describe the condition.
To be honest, I think my vet might think I’m a hypochondriac-by-proxy. Not long ago, I took Maisy in for an appointment, convinced that she needed a dental. She didn’t; in fact, the vet was actually impressed with the condition of her mouth- and by how cooperative she was (good girl, Maisy!).
A few months ago, orange kitty was limping. I took him in, and the x-rays (of course I did x-rays) showed that he has some arthritis- shocking, I know, in an 11-year-old cat. I did the same thing with Maisy not long after- she’s had an intermittent limp for years. It goes away with chiropractic and massage, but I wanted x-rays to check things out. Thankfully, there was nothing.
I’ve spent money on urologists and ultrasounds. I’ve hired cardiologists to do echocardiograms. I know where the three closest animal emergency clinics are, and I’ve spent more money than I knew was possible on lab work.
Most of the time, I don’t feel bad about this. I love my pets, and I prefer to take care of issues when they’re still small. I was recently seriously embarrassed, though, when I scheduled a behavior consult for the cats. They were fighting all the time, and I felt bad that they were obviously so miserable. I took behavior logs and about a billion videos. And as it turns out… they were playing. I cannot even begin to describe how mortified I was. Here I was, making a complete fool out of myself to a woman I really admire. Thankfully, she was really nice about it, saying that she respected how much I care about my pets.
Heaven help me if I ever have children, though.
Today’s post was inspired by Rescued Insanity.