I thought I killed my cat.
I like to sew, and my kitten, October, likes to help me. He likes to chew on the string, bat at any loose ends, dig his claws into stuff, and he also likes to bite pins. He pulls the pins out of the pin cushion and out of the stuff I'm sewing. It's quite annoying, but not quite as annoying as when he is right in my face, biting what I'm trying to finish.
But then on Monday, he pulled some pins out of the pin cushion and was chewing on them while I was working. I looked down at him, and he had a pin halfway down his throat. He meowed at me, and I saw the pointy end, but I couldn't see the ball on the other end because it was already out of sight. I tried to do something to have him spit it out, but a split second later, it was gone.
I didn't see it fall out, so I guess he swallowed it.
I was horrified. I couldn't think of any way it would just get processed smoothly, and I kept anticipating that he'd try to cough it up and choke on it, or it would poke him from the inside and tear up his digestive system, or somehow it would kill him.
I cried the rest of the night.
Toby is just a tiny cat, only 4 or 5 months old, and that is such a tragically short life! I would miss him how he meows all the time and is so soft and cute and, well, feline.
But it's now Friday, and Toby's still kicking. He hasn't died. The vet's office said he'd start throwing up if there was really a problem, and that hasn't happened either. He seems to be the same as ever.
Maybe he spat it out when I blinked.
Maybe he's a magic cat that can digest metal.
Maybe cats just have very accommodating digestive tracts for eating mice in the wild and metal straight pins in captivity.
Or maybe this is just one of his 9 lives. I hope he has a few more before curiosity finally kills him.
I hope I won't be writing about Toby and his fascination with our oven. That always scares me too.