He's been ripping apart doors, floors, and peeing everywhere but in his litter box, and I'd finally had enough!
I took him, this time, up to the university where our vet school in nationally awarded. Turns out he's fine! He's just anxious and depressed.
"Here. Give him these." They said.
"What are 'these'?"
"... well ... Prozac. That cat needs something." All the while she staring at me bleary eyed as they had kept Chandler overnight for testing. I could tell he must have drove them as nuts as me...
I took kitty home and forced a half of a pill down his throat and this is a re-enactment of the following 48 hours of his life...
Life is good now.
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