Unshelled peanuts in a bowl + Neville = bloody bottom

I’m not kidding. Neville is a freakin’ goat hidden inside a cat’s body. The other day he casually sniffed a bowl of unshelled peanuts I put on the coffee table, then he promptly went all goat-like on me and started eating them with relish – they had shells on them, people! He crunched right through them without a second thought. I promptly took them away from him and put the bowl on the kitchen counter, where I thought they’d be all, like, safe.

Lo, how forgetful I am. The poor Hobbit cactus is still recovering from Neville’s on-top-of-the-fridge grazing.

I was washing dishes a few days later when he lunged up onto the counter straight to the bowl of peanuts (obviously not his first time). “Off the table, off the table!” I shouted, causing him to jump down (damn, that’s loud!) and scamper away. Later that evening I found masticated* peanut shells in the study. Okaaaay. He’s been eating these damn things again! I put the bowl in the fridge this time, determined to protect Neville from his freakish goat-like eating disorder.

Then? There was blood. Out of his ass blood. And we discovered it on our way out the door, rushing as it was because I woke up at 6:30a.m. only to realize that Huz and I both had a dental appointment at 7:00a.m. My baby had blood coming out of his butt, people! Do you know how traumatic that was for me? It quickly stopped, which is good because we had to go. I called the vet and told her the whole story, to which she replied, “A shelled peanut is a very peculiar thing for a cat to eat.” Laughing to myself and thinking, “Lady, you obviously haven’t met Neville The Goat-Like Cat.” She said to watch him and if any other symptoms occur (lethargy, loss of appetite, more bleeding, etc.) to bring him in – otherwise, it was probably the peanut.

Ah, the joys of goat parenthood.

*How I love that word.