Tomorrow I have to take my little black cat, Katy, to have cysts removed. She is perhaps 7 - 8 years old, neutered in 2013 after being trapped and giving birth to 3 very sick kittens, who all died within 4 days.
Katy had been living in a feral colony and, although she is not a feral cat, she is a “scaredy” cat. When she had to have most of her teeth removed, she became a tuna fish addict and hated me for giving her food which hurt. It took her almost a year to recover from that experience.
Then, in July last year, she was hit by a car and disappeared into the fields. A neighbour found her the next morning - one eye completely damaged - and we rushed her to the vet. Apart from her eye, her upper jaw was broken but couldn't be wired because of other tissue damage. The vet had to stitch her tongue and she was kept at the surgery for 2 days. I was then told she was blind, couldn't swallow and that I should come by to give permission for euthanasia. When I saw her cowering at the back of her box, I talked to her and with her one eye she seemed to be pleading "Please take me home!" I was sure she wasn't blind and I'd already spoken to my daughter, who's very good at treating humans and animals, and she'd said, "Bring her home and we'll see what we can do".
I took her home with Ringer's solution, eye drops, painkillers, antibiotics and some concentrated astronaut's liquid food. I carried a dog crate out of the cellar and set it up with a small litter box and lots of blankets. I opened up her box to lift her in her new hospital bed and hop! She flew out of my arms and crept downstairs to where the cat litter boxes are kept. I didn't want to frighten her so just tried to keep an eye on her, without actually following. Having used the box, she crept back upstairs and into my bedroom. From then on, she spent most of her time on my bed - still bleeding somewhat from her nose and mouth. She always insisted on creeping downstairs to use her litter box. At first, we had to treat her 3 times a day, but, being weak, she was easy to pick up and take to the living room, where she was fed and put on the drip, which we hung from the cat tree.
It took 7 weeks before she was able to feed herself - tuna fish, of course. I had been in hospital and when I saw her I wondered if we'd done the right thing in keeping her alive. Apart from her useless eye, which was bad enough, her face was disfigured and she was dirty. Force feeding her had meant that food landed on her paws and under her chin. Wipes and wet flannels were not a very effective means of keeping both ends of a cat clean and she smelt dreadful. On my return, dirty little Katy wanted to sleep with me, right up against my face. Perhaps she was glad to see me and decided enough was enough. A week later she'd cleaned herself up, her face had filled out and she was my sweet-smelling little Katy once again. We’ve been back to the vet, her eye will not have to be removed ...... but now I've felt these lumps under her skin. The vet says they don't seem to be attached to anything, but they should be removed. So off we go again.
I've written this to keep my mind off the drama which is going to be played out tomorrow. The first problem will be catching her - nobody useful to help but sometimes it's easier that way. Let's hope that the unhelpful members of this household are still in bed when it's time to put her in her carrier. As soon as I close just one door, Katy panics. Think of me at 7 am (hopefully not) following her from one room to the next, ready to grab. Then the drive to the vet with wobbly knees and shaking hands, then the wait and finally, what will I do with her when I get home? Try the dog carrier again or just let her please herself.
Thank you for reading!
Katy had been living in a feral colony and, although she is not a feral cat, she is a “scaredy” cat. When she had to have most of her teeth removed, she became a tuna fish addict and hated me for giving her food which hurt. It took her almost a year to recover from that experience.
Then, in July last year, she was hit by a car and disappeared into the fields. A neighbour found her the next morning - one eye completely damaged - and we rushed her to the vet. Apart from her eye, her upper jaw was broken but couldn't be wired because of other tissue damage. The vet had to stitch her tongue and she was kept at the surgery for 2 days. I was then told she was blind, couldn't swallow and that I should come by to give permission for euthanasia. When I saw her cowering at the back of her box, I talked to her and with her one eye she seemed to be pleading "Please take me home!" I was sure she wasn't blind and I'd already spoken to my daughter, who's very good at treating humans and animals, and she'd said, "Bring her home and we'll see what we can do".
I took her home with Ringer's solution, eye drops, painkillers, antibiotics and some concentrated astronaut's liquid food. I carried a dog crate out of the cellar and set it up with a small litter box and lots of blankets. I opened up her box to lift her in her new hospital bed and hop! She flew out of my arms and crept downstairs to where the cat litter boxes are kept. I didn't want to frighten her so just tried to keep an eye on her, without actually following. Having used the box, she crept back upstairs and into my bedroom. From then on, she spent most of her time on my bed - still bleeding somewhat from her nose and mouth. She always insisted on creeping downstairs to use her litter box. At first, we had to treat her 3 times a day, but, being weak, she was easy to pick up and take to the living room, where she was fed and put on the drip, which we hung from the cat tree.
It took 7 weeks before she was able to feed herself - tuna fish, of course. I had been in hospital and when I saw her I wondered if we'd done the right thing in keeping her alive. Apart from her useless eye, which was bad enough, her face was disfigured and she was dirty. Force feeding her had meant that food landed on her paws and under her chin. Wipes and wet flannels were not a very effective means of keeping both ends of a cat clean and she smelt dreadful. On my return, dirty little Katy wanted to sleep with me, right up against my face. Perhaps she was glad to see me and decided enough was enough. A week later she'd cleaned herself up, her face had filled out and she was my sweet-smelling little Katy once again. We’ve been back to the vet, her eye will not have to be removed ...... but now I've felt these lumps under her skin. The vet says they don't seem to be attached to anything, but they should be removed. So off we go again.
I've written this to keep my mind off the drama which is going to be played out tomorrow. The first problem will be catching her - nobody useful to help but sometimes it's easier that way. Let's hope that the unhelpful members of this household are still in bed when it's time to put her in her carrier. As soon as I close just one door, Katy panics. Think of me at 7 am (hopefully not) following her from one room to the next, ready to grab. Then the drive to the vet with wobbly knees and shaking hands, then the wait and finally, what will I do with her when I get home? Try the dog carrier again or just let her please herself.
Thank you for reading!
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