Alan is currently at the vet with Dakota and I'm nervous as heck. Earlier this summer, she got really thin and surly, but then as quick as it happened, she was back to being fat and surly. The last several weeks she's been even more surly and Alan thinks she's getting fatter, so rather than wondering WTF is going on with that crazy cat, he's taken her to the professionals to try to figure it out. Oh, and to ask them about kitty prozac. You think I'm joking, but I'm not. If ever there was a candidate for prozac, it's her.
ETA: The vets said she looked fine. She has a cracked tooth which we need to get fixed (I won't even tell you the estimate on that one). Oh, and they won't prescribe her prozac. We have to take her to an animal behaviorist. Who lives in Berkeley. I just know she's going to be a dirty hippie who communes with the animals.
Oh, and the vet FORGOT to give her the vaccinations. Yeah, they forgot. Took her blood and urine but never gave her the shots. So now Alan has to take her back in. Professionals.