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Fear & Rage
About three weeks ago we adopted a new cat. She was young, about 3-4 years old, and declawed; Teri had found her at the animal shelter where she volunteers. It was a little wierd for me, because this cat looked exactly like one of our other cats. They were both white, with very similar fur, eyes, and body shapes. The only easy way to tell them apart was by her belly, which hung down a bit, or by the fact that she was deaf.
Have I mentioned our other cats? Probably, but just in case: Sam is a beautiful cat, a tawny declawed male who looks just like a tiny mountain lion. He's very old - 19 years old, which is somewhere around 90 in human terms. Nonetheless, he's in great shape. He's getting a bit creaky in the joints, and a bit shaky overall, but he's holding up well.
Baby is a white declawed male, perhaps seven or eight years old. He's quite plump, and (to put it kindly) not very bright. He tends to panic at odd times, like when I'm walking to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and he has the worst accident avoidence system I've ever seen in a cat. He tries to get out of my way, but instead invariably throws himself right under my feet.
The new cat looked just like Baby. But she had a HUGE problem with Sam. She chased him around the house, and growled at him a lot; he had been the dominant cat by virtue of seniority, and she seemed determined to overthrow the hierarchy.
Over the first two weeks Sam lost quite a bit of weight. He was eating a few bites when we put food out in the morning, but after a while I started to suspect that the new cat (we were calling her "Baby Girl" on Sebastian's prompting) was keeping Sam from eating most of the time. That may have been intentional on her part. Starving an old leader to death is an animal strategy I've heard about somewhere, I think.
In the third week Sam really seemed to be sinking fast. His weight shot down, and he started hiding a lot and limping. He missed more and more jumps, too, and when he would jump down from Sebastian's changing table he basically just let himself fall - a three-foot drop that was really painful to watch. On the 20th of December we set him up with some food and water in the bathroom, as a little safe area for him. I feared he didn't have much time left.
Late Saturday night Teri was holding him when she suddenly noticed that Sam's hip was enormously swollen and hot. Careful examination of his fur turned up a black area of skin about the size of a quarter. When Teri touched it, it started bleeding.
I suspected that Baby Girl had bitten Sam sometime in the past couple of weeks, and that he was badly infected. But I couldn't be sure. It could have been some sort of tumor or cancer; Sam's very old, after all, and he's pretty much living on borrowed time. We worried a lot, and the next morning we located an animal clinic that was open on Sunday and drove there. On the way, the car was suddenly filled with an incredible stench. The swelling on Sam's flank had broken open, and huge gouts of vile-smelling orange-pink pus were spurting out.
At the animal hospital (which was near T.F. Green Airport, and next to Hooters) they confirmed my guess: Sam had been bitten by Baby Girl, and was seriously infected. They took him in the back and cleaned out the wound; fortunately there was no necrosis. A heavy dose of antibiotics and some antibiotics for us to take home, and we were all set. The bill was $163. Which was reasonable, all in all, and we were really happy to hear that our Sam wouldn't be leaving us quite yet.
We set up in the bathroom with his own litter box, food, and water. Baby Girl was kept strictly out, of course. Sam was ravenous. We'd been putting 1/3 can of food in his bowl, of which he'd only been getting a few bites; alone in the bathroom, he ate two whole cans a day all by himself, and quite a bit of dry food as well. He put on a lot of weight in that time, and soon was looking five years younger. His hips are still a little stiff, but now he's jumping around and eating like a champion.
We had to get rid of Baby Girl, but fortunately a friend who had been thinking of getting a cat took her; it would have broken Teri's heart to take her back to the shelter. She's great with people, after all. It's just cats that she can't get along with, or Sam, anyway. She's doing really well in her new home, and you may hear a surprise on that subject very soon.
Sebastian note: on the way back from dropping me off at the train station today, he made a comment that surprised Teri. They were driving by a coffee shop, and in a very adult way he said "Mumma, you need coffee." I presume he was thinking he'd get a chocolate honey-dipped donut out of it (he did), but it was a surprisingly intelligent thing for a two-year-old to say.
Have I mentioned our other cats? Probably, but just in case: Sam is a beautiful cat, a tawny declawed male who looks just like a tiny mountain lion. He's very old - 19 years old, which is somewhere around 90 in human terms. Nonetheless, he's in great shape. He's getting a bit creaky in the joints, and a bit shaky overall, but he's holding up well.
Baby is a white declawed male, perhaps seven or eight years old. He's quite plump, and (to put it kindly) not very bright. He tends to panic at odd times, like when I'm walking to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and he has the worst accident avoidence system I've ever seen in a cat. He tries to get out of my way, but instead invariably throws himself right under my feet.
The new cat looked just like Baby. But she had a HUGE problem with Sam. She chased him around the house, and growled at him a lot; he had been the dominant cat by virtue of seniority, and she seemed determined to overthrow the hierarchy.
Over the first two weeks Sam lost quite a bit of weight. He was eating a few bites when we put food out in the morning, but after a while I started to suspect that the new cat (we were calling her "Baby Girl" on Sebastian's prompting) was keeping Sam from eating most of the time. That may have been intentional on her part. Starving an old leader to death is an animal strategy I've heard about somewhere, I think.
In the third week Sam really seemed to be sinking fast. His weight shot down, and he started hiding a lot and limping. He missed more and more jumps, too, and when he would jump down from Sebastian's changing table he basically just let himself fall - a three-foot drop that was really painful to watch. On the 20th of December we set him up with some food and water in the bathroom, as a little safe area for him. I feared he didn't have much time left.
Late Saturday night Teri was holding him when she suddenly noticed that Sam's hip was enormously swollen and hot. Careful examination of his fur turned up a black area of skin about the size of a quarter. When Teri touched it, it started bleeding.
I suspected that Baby Girl had bitten Sam sometime in the past couple of weeks, and that he was badly infected. But I couldn't be sure. It could have been some sort of tumor or cancer; Sam's very old, after all, and he's pretty much living on borrowed time. We worried a lot, and the next morning we located an animal clinic that was open on Sunday and drove there. On the way, the car was suddenly filled with an incredible stench. The swelling on Sam's flank had broken open, and huge gouts of vile-smelling orange-pink pus were spurting out.
At the animal hospital (which was near T.F. Green Airport, and next to Hooters) they confirmed my guess: Sam had been bitten by Baby Girl, and was seriously infected. They took him in the back and cleaned out the wound; fortunately there was no necrosis. A heavy dose of antibiotics and some antibiotics for us to take home, and we were all set. The bill was $163. Which was reasonable, all in all, and we were really happy to hear that our Sam wouldn't be leaving us quite yet.
We set up in the bathroom with his own litter box, food, and water. Baby Girl was kept strictly out, of course. Sam was ravenous. We'd been putting 1/3 can of food in his bowl, of which he'd only been getting a few bites; alone in the bathroom, he ate two whole cans a day all by himself, and quite a bit of dry food as well. He put on a lot of weight in that time, and soon was looking five years younger. His hips are still a little stiff, but now he's jumping around and eating like a champion.
We had to get rid of Baby Girl, but fortunately a friend who had been thinking of getting a cat took her; it would have broken Teri's heart to take her back to the shelter. She's great with people, after all. It's just cats that she can't get along with, or Sam, anyway. She's doing really well in her new home, and you may hear a surprise on that subject very soon.
Sebastian note: on the way back from dropping me off at the train station today, he made a comment that surprised Teri. They were driving by a coffee shop, and in a very adult way he said "Mumma, you need coffee." I presume he was thinking he'd get a chocolate honey-dipped donut out of it (he did), but it was a surprisingly intelligent thing for a two-year-old to say.
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(Anonymous) 2003-12-29 03:34 pm (UTC)(link):-)
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(Anonymous) 2004-01-01 01:36 am (UTC)(link)-flightofstairs
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