You might remember that a few weeks ago I mentioned that, while I was at the beach with my amazing girls, The Guy found a dying cat and set up a Cat Hospice on my back porch. Or you may not remember since my blog is not the most important thing in your life. At least I hope it's not because that would be sad for you and too much pressure for me.
Anyway. After analyzing the cat's symptoms with the help of the Internet, The Guy decided the cat had been poisoned and there was no hope. Turns out, the Internet does not make The Guy a vet. The cat kept living. He was still blind and still staggering, but alive. Back to the Internet went The Guy. This time, he determined that the cat was in the last stages of feline leukemia. Guess what? Still not a vet. The cat lives on.
Finally, says The Guy, "I think I need to take him to the vet. I feel guilty for waiting this long but I was sure he'd be dead soon. I just wanted to make his last days comfortable."
Off to the vet they go. I did not go. Beyond feeding him during the day, I was determined not to get emotionally involved with a cat that had "death" stamped on his head.
Well, you know where you get vet-worthy advice? From a vet. Turns out, the cat had an ear infection—one that was so bad it made him blind. So now, my back porch has changed from Cat Hospice to Cat Hospital. (Someday I'm going to explore the root words of "hospice" and 'hospital". I regret not having studied Latin—not that it was taught at my county high school.)
Anyway. At this point, cat is not out of the woods, but he can't come in the house with the other cats. Not because I say so. Because the vet says so. And we are going to go with what she says since she's the only one who has shown any sense at all about this situation.
I could go on about reactions to antibiotics and the chicken I had to boil and mix 
with rice but I won't. The cat continues to live. In fact, he's gained over a pound, has had his shots, and been neutered. Also, though he will probably never have the eyes of an eagle, he can see now.
Guess where he's living. Yep. I've tried to find him a home, where he wouldn't be the fourth cat, but since it's SO easy to find a home for a healthy cat with full vision, guess how that worked out. People do not want a special needs cat, even if he's white and sweet, with blue eyes.
Godson's Mom said it best. "Four is so many more than three." She ought to know. She's had four in the past because Godson's Dad keeps bringing them home. She only has three now, but she wouldn't even discuss it with me. I pointed out that she has more square feet in her house than I do. She says the bonus room doesn't count because they never go there. Neither does the little sitting room off Precious Angel's room.
I digress. What a surprise.
So now he has a name. Boo.
Have you had any accidental additions to your household?
Oh, yeah. the word is out - my house is the Crisona Home for Wayward Animals. I have a cat who was run over in front of me and left for dead; he is now twelve years old. A horse who the previous owner said was foundered (very serious - often results in having the animal put down); after a trip to the vet, x-rays and proper shoeing, he is romping in the pasture. A dog who was pregnant (not any more) that decided to live under one of our utility trailers; she's asleep right now under the kitchen table. Another cat who was left at the barn at probably three weeks old and unable to eat - she's trying to sleep on the computer right now. Have I had any accidental additions? Oh yeah...
ReplyDeleteI love this post! DFC would be so proud of The Guy and your hospice/hospital for the white cat with a supreme will to live. I currently run a nursing home for the aged cat. We're down to two felines in the house. It is enough.
ReplyDelete:-)
Yes'm, we started out with a reasonable number of pets, one dog, one cat, one fish in a whiskey barrel with a lily pad, but have graduated to something akin to an animal flop house with four rescued/found/followed me home/dogs. We have a cat, Mudpuddle, but he moved next door. He makes occasional official visits early in the morning when all the noise makers are outside. He has established his physical prowess by popping them up side the head with a cartoonish Ninja move that renders them silent and unable to move for several seconds as he passes by in a regal manner unharmed. This is the same cat who was attacked by an owl when he was a kitten and almost eviscerated and crippled. I too was moved to set up a Kitty Kat Convalescent home for about 6 weeks to nurse him back to health after two surgeries to repair his leg and his guts. It happened about a week before Christmas. Barry warned the kids the cat wasn't going to make it, the kitty was just an old barn cat and nature would just take her course and the cat would die. My children just looked at him and said to take back all their Christmas presents and use the money to save the cat if all he was worried about was the money. We pow-wowed. (Code for I tap-danced on his head about not living in the country in the fifties, and that we would have to do something to help the animal.) So I became caregiver to a mangled little kitty. I taught the kids to swaddle him in a blanket to give him medicine and made them help me squeeze Triple Anti-B ointment into the giant hole in his hip where the pin stuck out until it was to be removed. They cried, they gagged, they shivered but I told them that was what they fought for and they were going to help me. My daughter just helped a friend in NYC "doctor" her dog after an attack on the street and says she attributes her "Vet" knowledge to the nasty but necessary care she learned with the cat. She's still pissed he moved next door. Maybe that is the lesson I should be glad she learned.
ReplyDeleteOur cat Salem wandered into our life wounded and became a permanent member of the family. He had a knot on his side, like someone had kicked him, when he decided to introduce himself. And we weren't looking for a cat at the time. One vet trip later and he was determined to be a healthy cat, no worms, no diseases, no nothing. Obviously he had belonged to someone who no longer wanted him. I understand how this happens,and I wish you well. Something wonderful might be lurking in that little ball of fur.
ReplyDeleteWe have 2 dogs we more or less asked for, and a wonderful Lab who was left for dead on the side of the road. Days of feeding him thin mush b/c of his broken facial bones and treating a broken leg and pelvis, he defied all the odds and eventually was able to come home with us. He is my constant companion on all my walks and is the most incredibly loyal and kind dog I know. You just never know what a little kindness will accomplish.
ReplyDeleteJean said to tell y'all "Hello" for stopping by. They are charging her $20 for internet in her room, but she is having to use her money to buy Diet Mountain Dew.
ReplyDeleteWhat a prudent woman and a sweet husband! Hope she has a blast and gets that book published!
ReplyDeleteEnjoy every minute, Miz Jean!
Deb