Wednesday, August 2, 2006

The Cat Chronicles: Volume Oh For God's Sake Already

Cats are amazing creatures, aren't they? Faster than an escaping tail attached to their own butt, more powerful than a beta the size of a quarter, able to leap tall pieces of furniture in a single bound and then continue over the other side and into a box of something very small and scattery, all that jazz.


Have I mentioned lately that Cady's favorite food group is "things that are not cat food"? It's true. Carpenter ants, little pieces of paper, gnawed cardboard, dust. And you know what's great for dessert? Did you guess YARN? Because let me tell you, yarn is fantastic.

Cady ate some yarn maybe 4 months ago, and pooed it out, which was QUITE the extravaganza and [after the fact] very amusing. So we put all the yarn into a bureau inside of a closet, and there we go. Last Sunday we woke up and found that greatest of cat owner gifts, puke on the carpet. Thanks, cat! This was the beginning of a two day vomit spree as conducted by Miss Cady, while Flyboy alternately caused trouble and stayed the hell out of it. We took her to the vet on Monday and did the x-ray thing, and though we could see something in there, it didn't seem like enough of a problem item to be causing the problems we were seeing. Awesome Vet and Cady Love Interest Dr. Campbell and I decided to keep an eye on the situation, and I went home with some more easily digestible cat food to try, none of which she ate. The next day, still puking, so after work I took her to Tufts.

Well, hooray for Tufts. We went to the emergency room and after a relatively short wait, went in to see Awesome Vet and Classmate of AVaCLI Dr. Campbell Dr. Roble and the student assisting, whose name I believe was Sarah and who took a very good and complete medical history before the Doc got in. It bears mentioning that NEITHER of these people either yelled at Cady or called her an idiot when they were unable to listen to her heart because she was purring her fool head off. Dr. Roble was very suspicious of the feel of her tummy (as had been Dr. Campbell), and wanted to get her in for an ultrasound. He suspected a "linear body," i.e. yarn is a delicious treat for girls and boys, and if that was the case, he wanted to go into surgery that night. He quoted us - now would be a good time to sit down, if you're not already - $3,500. Cady is lucky that she and her brother are our kid substitutes. So, I plunked down half of that, took the carrier, and headed home, sobbing most of the way there and composing myself long enough to drive through Holden and then burst into tears again when I saw Speed back at the house. We got the "oh yeah, something troublesome is cookin' in there" call around 11:30, and Cady went in for surgery, getting out around 1:15 am or so.

Let me take a brief Flyboy interlude now...he was PISSED. It was like he was trying to interrogate Cady's position out of us. Meowing, sulking, glaring...the works. And of course, since there was no Cat Wrestling Federation to fill his nighttime hours, he was bored, so he entertained himself by meowing pitifully outside our door. Being the sucker that I am, I thought he was making a ruckus because he was lonely and wanted someone to snuggle with, so I went out to sleep on the couch, where I discovered that what he REALLY wanted was to continue the interrogation by way of Feline Stomping Torture, in which he spent a lot of time headbutting me and walking over my head. Thanks, cat.

So, the next day, Speed and I went to visit Cady at Tufts. She looked like a little war veteran. Both front legs had little 1.5" shaved cuffs above her paws, and on her left front leg, she had a little IV dock wrapped in a big blue bandage. Her whole tummy was shaved and she had 14 stitches in there. She started purring pretty much the second she saw Speed and I, and didn't stop until we left almost an hour and a half later. Come to think of it, we didn't hear her stop, so she may have just continued on. She spent time being patted and curling up against us and zonking out, and she looked GREAT. Very perky, obivously feeling better. The report from the student assigned to the case, Jen, was that she was being VERY affectionate with everyone, and behaving herself very well (even though she'd gotten a little bitey and scratchy on her way into surgery - I think, and the surgeon agreed, that she was just totally freaked out.). Apparently Jen had been trying to feed her by putting some wet food on her finger and holding it out to her, and Cady just mashed her face into it and kept rubbing her face on Jen's hand. Oh, Cady. It's a good thing we got you the surgery, because obviously you will be the cat who cures cancer.

She came home on Thursday instead of Friday as planned, which meant that it "only" cost $2,005. What a steal. She had some light pain meds for three days, and seemed to not even need them - there was no whining or hurty cat behavior as we got closer to time for a dose, etc. For the first couple days, she was hesitant to hop up even onto the couch, but since then she's even made it up to the top of the fridge (the better vantage point from which to observe her domain!) and is having no problems. For several days, she smelled so strongly of vet that Flyboy wouldn't have anything to do with her, but the smell has worn off and they are back to messing with each other. The stitches come out on the 8th, and if she ever pulls a stunt like this again, we're selling her to gypsies.

Crazy weather last night - Holden Street looks like a tornado went down it. Whole trees knocked over, ginormous branches, etc. Brief but tough storm. A very large branch went down on our street, landing squarely in our neighbors' driveway and snapping a power or phone line (we did not lose power). Madness.

1 comment:

  1. Yeah... I might have to take Joey into the vet AGAIN on Monday. I was going to today, but ended up having to spend 6 hours at the doc myself. $*^%&^

    So. I'm glad Cady's as cute as she is, because I know I could not have spent an entire month's salary on a cat. Too bad we've come close with the Joe-ster. He's nearing the end of his nine lives, if you ask me.