Simple Chronic Cat-atosis

There's nothing simple about simple chronic halitosis when the afflicted party is a cat. Specifically, a big, fat cat who doesn't particularly want your fingers in his mouth and has all 4 sets of claws intact.

Jake will be paying a visit to the vet Saturday morning, because he smells like ass. Literally, his breath smells worse than his ass. He was being all loveable last night and rubbing his face against mine, and I damn near gagged. And this morning, I noticed a little drool hanging off his lip, which isn't a good sign. See, these cats apparently have a history of tartar buildup and gingivitis. One of them lost a tooth last year to root decay, and the other has a broken tooth for similar reasons. Don't ask me why--they've obviously been well-cared for, they just have bad teeth. Lucky them.

The proposed treatment for this problem involves annual cleanings by a qualified veterinary professional under general anesthesia. Fine, I can handle that. However, it is highly recommended that owners of said afflicted felines brush their cat's teeth daily.

Uh-huh. Have I mentioned getting my human child to brush his teeth twice a day is like, pun intended, pulling teeth?

The last time I tried to brush an animal's teeth was when Martha (as in Martha, The Dog Who Hates Me) was found to have tartar issues by her own vet. I was instructed to brush her teeth at least every other day. Being unschooled in such endeavors, I ordered a doggie dental kit from Drs. Foster and Smith dot com, and when it arrived, I put Martha in my lap and went to it.

Several hours, a lot of projectile shedding and multiple abrasions later, I determined Martha was not interested in having her teeth brushed. Period. I have not attempted tooth-brushing of animal, mineral or vegetable since then.

So it's off to the vet's to lay down some major bank to have them knock my pussy out and scrape the crud off his teeth. And buy some kitty Greenies. Or Altoids.