For many years all the weasels were fine. A ding here and there. Stuff as they grew older. And then Grandma got sick and died, then The Hoon. And since then, all the kitties here at the Hacienda of Ckats one after the other, have had various ailments, all of them either serious and life or body part threatening or chronic and requiring all sorts of intensive daily care and whatnot. For you hard core long time readers of DG, see if you can Name That Kitty:
- Several times a day, had to have the hardened snot wiped off/out of his little kitty nostrils so he could breathe, blew actual snot bubbles out of his nose like a cartoon, could sneeze 13 times in a row and come out raring to put someone, anyone in a headlock (he can and does still do the latter).
- After the implantation of a radioactive seed to stop the growth of the thyroid tumor she spent 3 days in an isolation room, and was so distraught over the whole process, that instead of keeping a 10-ft distance between us like recommended for safe radioactivity levels, she spent the next week suctioned onto my body like a barnacle.
- Spent six months having pills pushed down his throat, bad goop wiped out of his eye, good goop squirted into his eye, sneezing snot all over me and the furniture and the food, two seperate rounds of kitty paw swollen like a spatula, and many months with enough herpes mouth sores to qualify as a gigolo.
The answers are 1) Malcolm 2) Jacinta 3) Baby Wallace
The only kitty in the bunch who was the radiant picture of health was sweet Baby Emmaline. Tiny little Emmaline, with her sweet face and even sweeter tiny tongue up my nose in the mornings. Bright flying Emmaline, biting the heads of Malcolm and Wallace with equal fearless ferver. Bodacious brave little Emmaline and her bold quest to get high.
As of Sunday at 4pm, our girl has been benched, joining the rest of her small tribe here in the Hacienda in our long standing membership of the Badge of the Walking Wounded.
She took a flying leap off a window sill, caught her back hind leg on a towel rack, and fractured her knee, breaking the kneecap almost clean off the bone. Then commenced over the course of 18 hours: one hysterical katmama, two trips to the vet, another trip to the feline orthopedic surgeon, one surgery to reconnect the knee with metal rods, a $1500 credit limit increase from Care*credit tp pay for the estimated $1400 surgery and recovery, and one very stylish red cast.
She had the surgery yesterday evening, the surgeon called me afterward to tell me all went great, and I went to see her this morning before I came into Hiveworld. She was high as a kite, her eyes enormous sweet inky pools of infinity. And sweet. So very sweet. Did I mention how sweet?
She can't come home until Wednesday or Thursday and then has to be immobilized in a small space so she won't be able to run around for 6-10 weeks, but she's okay! And there was fundage to pay for the surgery! And Life is good!
Crazy, strange, wonderful, rollercoaster life . . .
(I'll post a pic of her in her stylish red cast later on this afternoon . . . :)