So, Muci had another bout of vomiting over the past weekend, and last night it was pretty bad – he was vomiting blood.

My sleep was interrupted at various points throughout the night with sounds of him retching, and this morning, armed with a tub of wet lemony Swiffer cloths and a roll of kitchen towels, I went around the house hunting for pools of bloody saliva and mopping them up.

Yet another trip to the vet was in order.

When the time came to put Muci into his carrier, however, I found him hiding in his cat tree:

Muci's safe haven

It was as if he knew danger was imminent, and was very reluctant to come out of his hiding place.

So I had to pull him out of that box, head first, through that small hole.

And as I slowly, but firmly, pulled Muci out through the circular opening, taking care not to injure his shoulders or forelegs, a bizarre thought entered my mind…

I felt like a midwife.

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