Typically, furry kitties just get up and walk away from Lilly, but this one decided her nice petting wasn't in the cards. One swipe of the paw was all it took. Totally scary. After a phone call to the doctor, confirming our initial suspicions, we headed off the ER. The local hospital where we were didn't have a plastic surgeon on staff, so an ambulance ride (!) later we found ourselves at the childrens hospital downtown...at 11:30 pm. We waited....and waited....and waited. All the while, we didn't sleep. At last, someone showed up at 6 am but it wasn't the plastic surgeon. So again, we wait. The plastic surgeon showed up around 12 and an hour later, we were able to leave, with 5 little stitches. Long story short--hosptials, no matter how wonderful, are completely paralyzed by themselves. Let's hope that we don't return soon. Lilly was a super trooper through it all. Our little franken-baby! Looks like her modeling/pageant career is now out of the question.
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