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When my mother-in-law died three months ago, she left behind two thirteen-year-old cats, who had been her sole live-in companions for the last eight years of her life. It didn't seem right to take them to a shelter. We seemed to be in the best position to adopt them, although we already had a cat in residence (see my post of two summers ago, "A funny thing happened on the way home from cat sitting"). So adopt them we did. The venture has not been has not been without its challenges, however.
The first step was to ensure that neither of them had any contagious diseases that might be passed on to Reigning Cat. That meant taking both of them to our vet for a once-over.
One of them is a spayed female, severely overweight. Let's call her Queen Victoria, the snow queen. The other was an un-neutered male, also somewhat overweight. Let's call him Uncle Albert. Those aren't their real names, but Eliot said something along the lines of every cat needing at least three names. Both are big white fluffy long-haired cats which at least initially, I had trouble telling apart.
Their check-up was on Friday, June 19. Somehow we managed to wrestle both of them into their (separate) carriers and transport them to the vet. Albert yowled and panted all the way. Victoria seemed quietly resigned and settled down for a little catnap in her carrier.
First step was weigh-in. We decided to start with Victoria, since she seemed calmer. We opened the door to the carrier. She moved farther back in it. The veterinary technician tipped the carrier and Victoria dug in her heels - all four of them. The technician suggested one of us should get her out and since my partner was busy trying to get Albert a bit calmer, I volunteered.
Now, Victoria, unlike Albert, is usually super-affectionate with people. You start petting her and she nuzzles and rubs around you and purrs loudly. Should be easy to get her out of a carrier, right?
Wrong! I reached in and the moment I tried to gently extricate the cat, she bit down on my hand. Hard. Blood flowed. A little more freely than it might for most people, since I'm on anti-inflammatories for my arthritis. The technician was alarmed and decided to weigh the cat inside the carrier and weigh the carrier alone once the vet had managed to get her out. Ditto for Albert.
Once we got into the vet's examining room, the vet informed me that by law, since the bite had occurred on their premises, they had had to file a report with Ottawa Public Health. Moreover, she said, I needed to get that bite of mine looked at by a doctor (the kind that treats humans). Today.
Did I mention that both cats have been indoor cats their whole lives (or at least since they were adopted by my in-laws) so it was highly unlikely they could have rabies, even if their shots were not up to date?
Anyway, both cats eventually got examined and vaccinated, although doing Albert was a two-person job - our vet got one of her interns to put a towel over his face (Albert's face, that is) and murmur sweet nothings to him while she completed the necessary procedures. We're so sorry, Uncle Albert!
Victoria had one of the particularly matted bits of her coat cut - it has since grown back and she actually has quite a luxuriant coat now. Albert was given a neuter-and-dentistry appointment for July 2 (they couldn't admit him before that as they had to allow time for the vaccinations to take effect).
Once we had taken them back to my late mother-in-law's house, we went to an Appletree Clinic near our place. It was closed for the weekend. Next, we drove to the one in the Loblaws where we usually shop. It was just closing, but unlike the Appletree one, it's open Saturdays between 9 and 1.
So the next morning we went back there, even though I really wanted to go to the Friends of the Experimental Farm book sale (we did go there after I was finished). By then, the "wound" was barely noticeable. The doctor raised his eyebrows a little when I told him what had happened. He didn't seem too concerned but wrote me a prescription for an antibiotic, which he said I might not need, but if the injury swelled up or started oozing later, I could get filled.
Over a month later, the prescription still sits unfilled in my wallet. Maybe I should get it framed.
STAY TUNED .... for the next exciting episode of Old Blogcutter's Blog of Impractical Cats!
The first step was to ensure that neither of them had any contagious diseases that might be passed on to Reigning Cat. That meant taking both of them to our vet for a once-over.
One of them is a spayed female, severely overweight. Let's call her Queen Victoria, the snow queen. The other was an un-neutered male, also somewhat overweight. Let's call him Uncle Albert. Those aren't their real names, but Eliot said something along the lines of every cat needing at least three names. Both are big white fluffy long-haired cats which at least initially, I had trouble telling apart.
Their check-up was on Friday, June 19. Somehow we managed to wrestle both of them into their (separate) carriers and transport them to the vet. Albert yowled and panted all the way. Victoria seemed quietly resigned and settled down for a little catnap in her carrier.
First step was weigh-in. We decided to start with Victoria, since she seemed calmer. We opened the door to the carrier. She moved farther back in it. The veterinary technician tipped the carrier and Victoria dug in her heels - all four of them. The technician suggested one of us should get her out and since my partner was busy trying to get Albert a bit calmer, I volunteered.
Now, Victoria, unlike Albert, is usually super-affectionate with people. You start petting her and she nuzzles and rubs around you and purrs loudly. Should be easy to get her out of a carrier, right?
Wrong! I reached in and the moment I tried to gently extricate the cat, she bit down on my hand. Hard. Blood flowed. A little more freely than it might for most people, since I'm on anti-inflammatories for my arthritis. The technician was alarmed and decided to weigh the cat inside the carrier and weigh the carrier alone once the vet had managed to get her out. Ditto for Albert.
Once we got into the vet's examining room, the vet informed me that by law, since the bite had occurred on their premises, they had had to file a report with Ottawa Public Health. Moreover, she said, I needed to get that bite of mine looked at by a doctor (the kind that treats humans). Today.
Did I mention that both cats have been indoor cats their whole lives (or at least since they were adopted by my in-laws) so it was highly unlikely they could have rabies, even if their shots were not up to date?
Anyway, both cats eventually got examined and vaccinated, although doing Albert was a two-person job - our vet got one of her interns to put a towel over his face (Albert's face, that is) and murmur sweet nothings to him while she completed the necessary procedures. We're so sorry, Uncle Albert!
Victoria had one of the particularly matted bits of her coat cut - it has since grown back and she actually has quite a luxuriant coat now. Albert was given a neuter-and-dentistry appointment for July 2 (they couldn't admit him before that as they had to allow time for the vaccinations to take effect).
Once we had taken them back to my late mother-in-law's house, we went to an Appletree Clinic near our place. It was closed for the weekend. Next, we drove to the one in the Loblaws where we usually shop. It was just closing, but unlike the Appletree one, it's open Saturdays between 9 and 1.
So the next morning we went back there, even though I really wanted to go to the Friends of the Experimental Farm book sale (we did go there after I was finished). By then, the "wound" was barely noticeable. The doctor raised his eyebrows a little when I told him what had happened. He didn't seem too concerned but wrote me a prescription for an antibiotic, which he said I might not need, but if the injury swelled up or started oozing later, I could get filled.
Over a month later, the prescription still sits unfilled in my wallet. Maybe I should get it framed.
STAY TUNED .... for the next exciting episode of Old Blogcutter's Blog of Impractical Cats!