Having a (Hair) Ball

Gracie shows us which paw I put the medicine on for her hairballs.

The other night, I was asleep when Gracie made a really frightening noise. Let me rephrase that: Godzilla made a really frightening noise when he pulled down Tokyo’s phone system. This was an ear-shattering groan, mixed with cat curses. Eventually, I fell back asleep. However, in the morning, I stepped on something wet and squishy. I thought I’d killed a Brillo pad.

Nope. It was Gracie’s first hairball.

I panicked, then called the government to come and test it.

Where did I go wrong? I know these hairballs occur because cats groom themselves and there’s a big internal fur build-up. But I brush Gracie every day. It’s one of the few benefits of my OCD.

I went and got special cat food, which promised “lots more fiber!” By the next day, I could see that was true. Hemp has less fiber. But Gracie still wouldn’t eat it.

Three nights later? That sound again. Like Regan screaming at the priest in “The Exorcist.” In the morning? Another present from the hairball fairy.

I then tried some oral medicine, which I think gets its name because when cats see it, they actually say, "Unless that’s lemonade, forget it!"

Finally, success. My vet recommended a solution you rub on your cat’s paws, which I’ll call “Brand Name Withheld.” Strangely enough, that’s what my vet called it, too. Boy, that was a confusing conversation.

I rubbed some on Gracie. She licked her paws. Eureka! For five nights, it's been quiet. If I step on something squishy again in the morning, it’s cool. I’ll look at my dog and know it’s no hairball. It's something else entirely.

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