The hind end of Johnson here.
Apparently a Mancat can't wheeze and sneeze and shake his head and fling snot all over in his own home without the peeps having a hushed discussion and then dragging said Mancat (howling the Song of His People) off to the vet.
The trauma forced me to lose a whisker!
Naturally the vet loved me, but unfortunately not enough to prevent her from violating my exit valve to see if I had a fever (no) and prying my inlet valve open to inspect my teefs (clean).
The whole traumatic experience almost made me want to get back into the car...and that's saying something.
The verdict? I have a little kitty cold--I am prone to them--so it's ten days of the Vile Brown Ooze and helicopter peeps until the wheezing subsides...
*crappity, crap crap, crap*
XX Snotty John XX
(This actually occurred a few days ago, John's already feeling much better--ed.)