Katherine informed me last night (Saturday) that Billy had asked for evening playtime, which the boys had not had in a few days. We got out the pom-pom wand (mostly for Billy) and the Mylar tassel wand for Oscar and Penwiper, and commenced our normal routine.
The normal routine includes private light playtime for Oscar with the tassel while Billy, no longer young, climbs cat towers chasing the pom-pom. Then one of us puts PW through his paces. That includes some serious leaping and climbing, including floor to ceiling sprints to get the tassel off my bookshelf. He usually fails of course, as with the tassel on the end of a wand & string, the mechanical advantage means a snap of the wrist can move it faster than a cat in his prime leaping up and across several feet. (But he's close, which means he's good.)
Since Penwiper didn't catch it at all during the last night's session, I slowed down as we finished. He then did catch it, and as expected he nommed on the toy until I gently pried it away from him. I gave the wand to Katherine to put away along with the one she used with Billy ...
... and then normal ended when I saw PW was nomming on an end of a single piece of Mylar which had obviously come loose from the tassel. By end, I mean he was nomming on under half an inch (of a ~ 5" inch tassle), implying the rest was in him. Sweet Ceiling Cat, a linear intestinal blockage in the making. I freaked, especially since by the time I figured out how to turn the halls lights (yes, I wasn't thinking straight, I've lived in this house 6 years) to get a better look, it's ... gone.
I dove for the computer, looked up the issue, and then called A.E.S. Kirkland, the 24x7 vet serving the Eastside.
They said bring him in. We took him in.
They gave him both an injection and some hydrogen peroxide to try to induce him to vomit, but he didn't. They then X-rayed him at our request (which didn't show anything, but didn't mean it *wasn't* there). Finally, they sent us home advising he might still vomit and telling what to look for if he didn't. We paid (a pretty reasonable amount, given the prompt professional service at midnight on a Saturday), and took him home.
He got out of the carrier, laid down on the comfort of the living room carpet (covered by a training pad) ... and barfed over the side of the pad onto the rug proper. Then he wandered a few feet to the corner of the room and did it again. There was no tassel that we could see, but since he emptied his stomach, our concern was (and is) greatly alleviated.
The carpet messes? Routine. And I've never wanted to see cat barf so much in my life. (And Katherine, bless her, is the one who cleaned it up.)
This morning he didn't each much, but he got something in him and a he's slowly returning to normal, including seeking us out and purring.
We'll keep an eye on him, but we think he's okay.
Sunday Afternoon Update: He's still vomiting most (all?) food, otherwise seems recovering. We're watching him.