Friday, October 22, 2004
Abby's Back
The time had come to take Abby back to the vet's for a check-up and perhaps more surgery for her ear tumors. I had an appointment to drop her off early one morning, so that she could be sedated for her exam. Remember, Abby is feral and will not be touched (over your mangled hands, my dear). Anytime the veterinarian needs to do an exam, he has to sedate her.
The night before, she sat on the love seat in my bedroom with her little pink tongue sticking out and stared at me for hours as if trying to read my mind. I did nothing, I thought, to raise her suspicions. I did not touch the carrier, did not close any doors, etc.
The next morning, Abby had vanished. I searched all her usual hiding places, she was nowhere to be found. I looked under the bed, on top of the bookcase, under the cedar chest, behind the TV, under all the chairs in the den and even in the closet. I did turn up Molly, another feral black cat, who hissed at me when I found her under the footstool.
I called my veterinarian's office and told the receptionist the problem. She told me that if I brought Abby in by noon, the vet could examine her, but she probably would have to stay the night.
I decided to resume my normal morning routine in hopes that Abby would reappear. I fed the cats their morning ration of canned food and ate my breakfast. Abby did not appear.
I worked for a while (my office is in my home), then resumed the search for Abby. No luck. I knew that she had not gone outside, that she had to be in the house, but I could not locate her. By now, I had acquired several cat helpers, who thought that when I sprawled on the floor to look under furniture, I really just wanted to play with them.
After almost an hour of fruitless search, I gave up. I called my vet's office and canceled Abby's appointment. I rescheduled for two days later.
Abby did not appear for the rest of the day.
That evening as I sat watching the TV in the den, I glanced at one of our padded chairs. This chair is like an oversized dining room chair with a padded seat and back. Tonight it had five legs.
I looked more closely. The fifth leg definitely had fur on it. Gently, I poked the bulge in the lining. Abby exploded from the chair and clamored up on the bookcase. I had found her new hiding place.
I think Abby knew when to admit defeat. Two days later, she did not hide, and I easily corralled her into the carrier. Well, there was a small chase, but nothing like her previous escapades.
The veterinarian did need to do further work on her ear, so she stayed a few days. She came home even wilder. Of course, since she had more surgery, she has to go back again. Oh, well.
The night before, she sat on the love seat in my bedroom with her little pink tongue sticking out and stared at me for hours as if trying to read my mind. I did nothing, I thought, to raise her suspicions. I did not touch the carrier, did not close any doors, etc.
The next morning, Abby had vanished. I searched all her usual hiding places, she was nowhere to be found. I looked under the bed, on top of the bookcase, under the cedar chest, behind the TV, under all the chairs in the den and even in the closet. I did turn up Molly, another feral black cat, who hissed at me when I found her under the footstool.
I called my veterinarian's office and told the receptionist the problem. She told me that if I brought Abby in by noon, the vet could examine her, but she probably would have to stay the night.
I decided to resume my normal morning routine in hopes that Abby would reappear. I fed the cats their morning ration of canned food and ate my breakfast. Abby did not appear.
I worked for a while (my office is in my home), then resumed the search for Abby. No luck. I knew that she had not gone outside, that she had to be in the house, but I could not locate her. By now, I had acquired several cat helpers, who thought that when I sprawled on the floor to look under furniture, I really just wanted to play with them.
After almost an hour of fruitless search, I gave up. I called my vet's office and canceled Abby's appointment. I rescheduled for two days later.
Abby did not appear for the rest of the day.
That evening as I sat watching the TV in the den, I glanced at one of our padded chairs. This chair is like an oversized dining room chair with a padded seat and back. Tonight it had five legs.
I looked more closely. The fifth leg definitely had fur on it. Gently, I poked the bulge in the lining. Abby exploded from the chair and clamored up on the bookcase. I had found her new hiding place.
I think Abby knew when to admit defeat. Two days later, she did not hide, and I easily corralled her into the carrier. Well, there was a small chase, but nothing like her previous escapades.
The veterinarian did need to do further work on her ear, so she stayed a few days. She came home even wilder. Of course, since she had more surgery, she has to go back again. Oh, well.
