There was no place for adoption, no way to go, no way to get a booking, no way to meet a stray cat ... I went to buy a seller recommended by a friend who didn't know about cathouses, breeding, family breeding, the backyard ... The seller seemed to be bred, but the first, three months or more, gave me a more than two months to go to the hospital and check out the hospital for less than two months ... Second, I got a shot of vaccine (not knowing that it would take three months) to get rid of me, none of them ... Third, roommates were worried that I had bought a deviant cat.
When you buy it, you go to the pet hospital for a check-up this weekend, which is basically fine.
It's good to be in the cat's casserole. Then I realized she was just not familiar with the environment and that she was not feeling well.
Then start the diarrhea tour. When the cat came, I asked the seller to bring the usual cat food, but the sword didn't eat, it didn't smell. I was skeptical, so I just lost my weaning and didn't eat cat food.
And then I die, because I don't eat cat food, because I love egg cream, egg yellow, and boiled chicken breast, and I mix eggs and yellow chicken chests with the roommate's cat food... and I don't eat cat food, I have to feed it alone, and I'm staying with the boy's house with the cat for a weekend, and the goat powder comes, and I feed her some milk powder. When I get home, I'm out of control.
In serious cases, four or five times a night, returned from work and pulled 7.8 times, eventually with blood, to the hospital for blood tests, inflammation, gastrointestinal problems, fungi and demoliosis.
It's more sticky, and I'm going to sleep in my thighs early and at 9:00.
A poor old man when he's sick.
And the tummy likes to jump on the bed, wakes me up at four o'clock every day, wakes up two days in the morning, she tries to pull the poop on my stomach and pillow, sees it coming out, notes seven or eight places, changes the sheets three times, and finally drops a bomb while I'm not home at night.
The cat needs to be educated! Go back and drag her to her poop, let her smell, smote her, put her in the cat's casserole, and tell her this is where she shits, again and again... and then not in bed.
Anyway, the bomb was the last straw to crush a camel, and I didn't want to raise it... but it was delivered or transferred, and then turned back and took responsibility for it.