Chelsie and I get the enema into him, I use my body to block him into the area where we have the litter box, and we sit down to wait. He poops a little, and then he decides to up the stakes.
He pukes, and then returns to the cat box to have some diarrhea. I must have developed parent nose, because, while I wasn't phased, Chelsie and Katie acted liked they were about to die from the smell of the poo. Once he threw up, they shut themselves into Katie's bedroom, and have only come out to hand me some cat wet wipes that I was begging for.
I'm really angry with Katie, and I can't quite figure out why. I guess I expect some more compassion from her. That, and I'm really tired of her little sniping comments about this whole situation. I'll get over it, I guess.