If you’ve checked out a few other cat blogs over the past 28 days, you might have noticed that February is National Pet Dental Health Month. I thought I was going to get out of posting about it, except that at my last vet checkup, they noticed that I had some tartar. Not a lot, and certainly not enough to warrant a teeth cleaning under anesthesia — just “some.” Well, it did not take long for my human — she of the dental floss and six-month checkups — to pull out these implements of torture that she has had sitting in the back of a cupboard for who-knows-how-long.
The sight of these did not thrill me.
My dread grew as my human proceeded to smear some tooth gunk on the little rubber toothbrush (she felt it would give her “more control”… although she apparently could not control getting the gunk all over her hands). When she turned around, however, I was gone!
She caught up with me in the dining room. Resistance was futile!
Then she wanted to get a photo of my vanilla-fresh clean teeth. I resisted that too. Even worse, this all happened on Sunday. I thought Sundays were supposed to be easy!