Sick Cat Creature

I’ve spoken a lot about cats on my blog.  It’s due to the fact my wife is a crazy cat lady.  I’m going to write about yet another cat situation, but surprisingly it’s one not brought on by my Dr. Doolittle wife.

Last weekend, her mother’s cat had a serious problem. At 11 PM. It was serious enough that we had to take the cat to the 24 hour emergency vet.  The cat couldn’t move her back legs.

Her name is puddin, but that’s not what I call her.  I call her Satan.  Why?  Because this cat would make a lion cry.  How come? Because the cat is evil personified.  Seriously.  When you look at the cat? It growls. Not hisses, growls.  Like a demon on vacation from Hell.  If you stare to long, the cat will attack you. Like a demon on vacation from Hell that sees you as a Hawaiian all you can eat buffet.  When I say this cat is evil, I mean E-V-I-L.  If this cat was a James Bond Villain, James Bond would die.  Jason Bourne?  Wouldn’t even see what hit him.  This cat is so evil it would stand over Gandolf’s dead, bloody body, and use his staff as a tooth pick.

I would like to say I sat there and pointed at the evil creature disguised as a cat and pointed my finger at it and laughed, saying “yeah, that’s what being evil gets you”. But alas, I have a big heart and I felt sorry for the old girl.  Well, not old, unless she really is Satan.  Then she is old.  Worried, I took the poor suffering cat to this vet, listening to her cries of pain.

Normally, when this cat goes to the vet, the Doctor will come in dressed in a metal suit similar to Iron Man’s, just to survive the encounter.  But none of that was necessary this time.  She didn’t even bother to hiss at anyone.

The prognosis was not good.  Blood clot, down near her legs.  It’s apparently fairly common in cats because cat’s get heart disease just like people.  The problem is, they can’t go in and fix it like a blood clot in a human.

It was sad.  What I did not find sad was what they wanted to do for the cat.  A week of staying in hospital at the tune of $ 500.00 a night.  Add to that an echocardiogram to see if the cat had heart disease. Why? Because there was always the chance that it wasn’t a blood clot, despite the Doctor being pretty sure it was. It could have been a sudden tumor on the spine, or something else.  Oh, and the echocardiogram? That was going to run $ 800.00.

All I could say was WOW.  Now my wife’s parents are on a fixed income and there was no way they could afford something like this.  So what to do?  Sure, the cat could have been put down, but my wife’s mother couldn’t stand to do that.  Shortly after we got there, the pain she was feeling stopped and that was only partly to do with the pain meds they gave her.  Turns out, only one back leg is completely affected.  She can use her other back leg somewhat.

So my lovely wife, who can be pretty assertive when she needs to be, in no uncertain terms explained to the Doctor we were taking the cat home.  Which we did.  Now the cat lays in one place, drinks water, but doesn’t really want to eat.  So we (meaning me, the sucker) has to give her a liquid medication to increase her appetite.  It is somewhat successful, and the cat has not shredded me into a thousand pieces yet, despite the fact that she does everything she can to avoid the medication.  Apparently it tastes like something really, really awful.  It takes two of us to hold her, despite her condition, to give her this medication.  I’m just hoping that she will forgive me, because if she suddenly recovers, I’m pretty sure she is going to kill me.  And eat the remains while purring.