And then this happened:

[j_morgan]

I woke up about 45 minutes ago to the sound of Lawrence tearing around my room and spitting. Turning on the lights, I found him with an arched back in the middle of the room, wide-eyed and foaming at the mouth. Not knowing what to do, I stood there and watched him shake gobs of thick saliva from his mouth, soaking a pair of my socks and my broken digital camera. I followed him down the hallway to the kitchen, where he drooled all over the floor and bottom shelf. I called the 24-hour vet around the corner from my house, and they told me that he probably just got into something toxic, although if this keeps up it could likely be rabies. I'll try to get him checked out tomorrow. Ivy read up on Rabies treatments for cats while I cleaned up all the cat spit, and the standard procedure is pretty grim. If they think rabies is a possibility, he'll be held for 10 days of observation, after which if he tests positive for rabies, he will be put to sleep, decapitated, and his frozen head will be sent to a rabies research lab. He's only two, so I don't believe his vaccinations have been completed yet. Needless to say, I'm pretty worried; he's just about the coolest cat anyone could ever ask for. I don't have the money to pay for an expensive vet visit right now, but letting this go unchecked is not an option. If he's going rabid, he could be a danger to all of us and everyone we share a yard with. I hope this is as close to a zombie apocalypse as I ever get.

Update:

No rabies, just a sick, slovenly kitteh. It was pretty fucking scary and disgusting though.