(no subject)
Well, so much for paying off Dad what we owed him this month. We'd begun letting Scooter outdoors because it's nearly impossible to keep one in when you have two other outdoor cats teasing him with their outdoorsyness, and you don't have an airlock, or at least double screen doors. He'd been neutered, so hopefully the urge to roam and fight was going to be less. Unfortunately, Gareth saw him get in what appeared to be a minor scuffle with Boots, another fairly young male cat belonging to Avalon's friend Emily, two doors down. It didn't appear to be a big deal, just establishing some pecking order levels.
However, a few days later, Gareth noticed when he came indoors, he wasn't acting like himself and sleeping more than he usually did; Avalon complained he tried to bite her when she picked him up - this really isn't too much out of the ordinary because she tends to want to carry him around like Frieda's boneless cat in the Peanuts comics. He's usually remarkably tolerant, but occasionally gets tired of it. I tried to figure out what was wrong, but it wasn't until the next day, when he came into the kitchen to curl up on a grocery bag that had fallen out the recycling bin (and what is it about lying down on crunchy paper or plastic things? They seem to find it comforting...) that I noticed his shoulder was all swollen, from my angle looking down on him. No wonder he wasn't feeling well. Great - Boots must have gotten in a bite, and he now has an abscess.
The paycheck already being gone for the month, we again had to borrow from Dad to take him to the vet. John chose to take him to Dr. Garza instead of the clinic where we had him neutered, so we are now in the hole again - not that we've gotten very far out (or out completely at all - there's some major things that have gotten put off). I picked him up Saturday evening, after calling to see if he was ready and being asked "Which Scooter? We've got three of them!" He now has to wear the cone of silence for a couple of weeks and there are several ugly stitches in his left arm, with a drain for a few days; it appears to be a piece of rubber tubing extending from the top and bottom of his stitched area. John just took him in for a check this morning, and they decided they want to leave it in for another day. He is still sleeping a lot, but he's back to chasing around John's feet under the covers, and wanting his head scratched almost constantly because he can't get to it himself. I think the cone is a trifle too small, as his ears, whiskers, and chin regularly jam against the sides. I'm sure that must be bothersome; I'll see if I can't let it out bit without him pulling the thing completely off.
However, a few days later, Gareth noticed when he came indoors, he wasn't acting like himself and sleeping more than he usually did; Avalon complained he tried to bite her when she picked him up - this really isn't too much out of the ordinary because she tends to want to carry him around like Frieda's boneless cat in the Peanuts comics. He's usually remarkably tolerant, but occasionally gets tired of it. I tried to figure out what was wrong, but it wasn't until the next day, when he came into the kitchen to curl up on a grocery bag that had fallen out the recycling bin (and what is it about lying down on crunchy paper or plastic things? They seem to find it comforting...) that I noticed his shoulder was all swollen, from my angle looking down on him. No wonder he wasn't feeling well. Great - Boots must have gotten in a bite, and he now has an abscess.
The paycheck already being gone for the month, we again had to borrow from Dad to take him to the vet. John chose to take him to Dr. Garza instead of the clinic where we had him neutered, so we are now in the hole again - not that we've gotten very far out (or out completely at all - there's some major things that have gotten put off). I picked him up Saturday evening, after calling to see if he was ready and being asked "Which Scooter? We've got three of them!" He now has to wear the cone of silence for a couple of weeks and there are several ugly stitches in his left arm, with a drain for a few days; it appears to be a piece of rubber tubing extending from the top and bottom of his stitched area. John just took him in for a check this morning, and they decided they want to leave it in for another day. He is still sleeping a lot, but he's back to chasing around John's feet under the covers, and wanting his head scratched almost constantly because he can't get to it himself. I think the cone is a trifle too small, as his ears, whiskers, and chin regularly jam against the sides. I'm sure that must be bothersome; I'll see if I can't let it out bit without him pulling the thing completely off.