Bob's Unhappy Adventure

What is it about certain animals that grab your heart? I’ve had a lot of pets in my lifetime; dogs, cats, fish, a hamster and even a bantam chicken. I have loved them all, but always one a little bit more than another. I actually had trouble starting this blog. Just thinking about some of those favorites that have been long gone put me in a funk for a couple of days. The death of some of my pets was expected, or sometimes best for the animal, and a lot have been sudden and devastating. But the passing of some, no matter how logical or right or necessary, is hard to take.

But this is not about all the loved pets that have gone out of my life. This blog is about Bob.

What do we know about Bob? We know he is not a feral cat; way to easy to approach. We know that he is not a barn raised cat; he wants to be too close to me and in the house. We know he was hurt at some point, possibly being thrown from a car; his tail is damaged, probably broken part way down, and he has trouble running with weak back legs. We are pretty sure he’s not too bright; couldn’t figure out how to use the cat door into the cat house. And…. I know that he has beautiful pale green eyes and a cute speckled nose, he is affectionate, and loves me almost as much as food.

And we now know that even though he is still a tom, he is not much of a fighter. Right after I had written about him last time, Bob and our neutered cat Pickles got into what I think was a “king of the hill” fight.

Pickles.

And Bob lost. He ended up with punctures on his back. The holes got slightly infected so we cleaned them and used some antibacterial cream for cats and dogs (we get a lot of little scrapes here) on the wound. It looked great. For about a week. Then the day of Thanksgiving (why do emergencies always happen on holidays), we noticed that his back was swelling and he would not let Hubby touch it. He did let me look at it, but with a lot of complaining. Black Friday arrived and we called the vet. The swelling had increased to the size of a golf ball. Our vet got us in that afternoon, so Bob got his first (at least first for us) car ride in a crate. Now Bob is a fairly big boy, 10 pounds and still filling out. So he was uncomfortable in our cat crate. But he only cried until we got in the car and started talking. It seems that he was not as scared knowing we were there (see, not a barn or feral cat). He was very well behaved in the vet waiting room, and even though scared, he was very good in the examining room. His real trouble started when the vet suggested that the wound be flushed out.

I am very grateful to that vet for having the foresight to ask us to go to the waiting room. I didn’t see what happened, but I heard it all. Bob was screaming with pain and fear and anger all at the same time. I was in the waiting room almost in tears. The vet had told us this was the only thing to do, unless we wanted Bob knocked out to deal with the wound, in which case he would have had to stay in the clinic over the weekend. I knew he would be unhappy there, so I opted for the flushing. As I heard him crying, I changed my mind, but too late. They were finally finished. Now most of you that have had children or beloved pets know how I felt in that waiting room, hearing him cry and not being able to help him. I felt, oh I don’t know how to describe it, except broken hearted. Even thinking about it now hurts. And Bob? Poor Bob was so scared that he did the 3 Ps in his crate; pooped, peed and puked.

Bob checking out my shop in the cat house (note the shaved back).

Anyway, time heals all. Right? So Bob is home, with a shaved back and 3 weeks of antibiotics. We felt so badly for him, Hubby told me to get yet another heated cat bed, and he has been moved into the cat house (as close to the lap of luxury that Hubby will allow). Then we put a towel over the cat door so Bob can go in and out. He just can’t grasp the mechanics of the plastic flap. And we will leave the barn to the feral cats, with a big dish of food and beds in the hay.

Bob today.

So for now all is well, except our checkbook. Any grants available to take care of abandoned cats? And hopefully Bob’s next trip to the vet will only be for neutering and a tail dock. But then ….that will be another Unhappy Adventure for him.