Three Round Trips to the Vet or Just Another Day

Today was vet day; I made three round trips to the vet!  According to Google Maps it’s 7.1 miles and in the current traffic (at 10:30 pm) will take me 21 minutes to get there. And I did this three times. No wonder I am exhausted. I didn’t intend to make three round trips to the vet, nope,  I had other plans but of course things never work out that smoothly. Muffin was scheduled to have her teeth cleaned today. That meant a 7:30 am drop off. I also noticed that Marius had been scratching a lot of fur off his neck and had a big bald spot. So after much deliberation I decided to take him in to see the doctor as well. The plan was to take him in around 5pm so that I could pick Muffin up from her surgery at the same time. This would make only two round trips to the vet’s office, which I would have to make anyways.  Like I said, that was just too easy to work out.

I dropped Muffin at the vet this morning. I was half asleep, she was pissed because she hadn’t had breakfast and I scooped her up, shoved a pill down her throat, stuffed her in a carrier and took her out into the cold, cold snowy morning. Crash sat in the kitchen doorway wondering why he STILL didn’t have food. I was half asleep from waking up at 5:30 to pick up their food.  Thankfully I was early enough that I didn’t get too much traffic. As I got close to the office though, I got a very bad feeling about the procedure. I just had this feeling something bad was going to happen. I suddenly felt the need to hug Muffin and tell her just how much I loved her. The hugging part would have been a horrible idea since she was cranky and in a carrier, so I opted to express my love vocally. As I drove away I had the strangest urge to cry, I kept feeling like something horrible was going to happen to my cranky baby girl.

I got home and fed everyone, then threw myself into bed for a little nap before heading off to work training. Just as I was starting to doze off the phone rang. Caller ID says it’s the vet. Shit. I answer and it’s my vet, Dr. T. She asks how Muffin had been feeling lately. Last week Muffin was under the weather and we think she had a mild pancreatitis flair-up. She was better by the end of last week though, so I went ahead with the dental surgery. The doctor says she is glad to hear Muffin is doing better. She says she noticed a brand new heart murmur when she was doing the exam. Oh hell. Dr. T says it sounds like just a mild flow murmur but of course she won’t know anything unless they do a cardiac ultrasound. Knowing the family history–both Crash and my Sam have/had heart issues–she was a little more concerned though. Damn genetics. She says they have done successful dentals on cats with heart murmurs before (Crash most likely being one of those cats).  Remembering the horrible feeling I had leaving the office, I tell I don’t want to do the surgery. Thankfully she understands and says she would have done the same thing with her cat. Now comes the fun time of ultrasounds, assessments, exams and decding if we want to add even more medicines to my cornucopia of drugs! I grab a quick breakfast and run out the door again to pick her up. I spent a total of an hour at home between when I dropped her off and when I left to pick her up. Even though I was going to be in the office again this evening there was no way I was leaving her. First off I couldn’t do that to her, second I didn’t want to risk paying any boarding fees. Got home with just enough time to feed her (apparently the food at the vet’s office wasn’t good enough) and run out the door again for work.

So my morning started off with a heart murmur and worked its way up to losing most progress I have made with Marius as I tried to stuff him in a cat carrier. Which is especially heart-breaking since he let me pet him for the first time today! He is one solid cat, and when he scrunches up there is hardly any scruff left. Especially if you hesitate, like I did a few times. Oops. Poor boy was scared out of his little mind. He was wonderful for the vet though. We all moved very slowly with him and all humans left without a mark on them. Always a great thing.  As he wiggled around under the towels trying to get away from the vet (Dr. C, who originally saw him) I was able to hold him. I was holding him! A feral cat would not let me hold him, even (especially?) in these circumstances. Turns out poor baby Marius has a decent sized ruptured abscess on his cheek. No wonder he was so itchy, pulled a scab right off! Fortunately, it didn’t look that bad. There was a little bit of pus, but it was mostly just an open hole. Thankfully it was already starting to granulate (form the first round of healthy tissue). So he got a shot of Convenia and we came home. Sadly, I lost just about all progress I had made with him. This means I certainly won’t be able to hold a warm compress to his wound, and will have to do my best to keep an eye on it. It also means that he refused to come out and play tonight. He came out of the cage. He played in the cage. But he wouldn’t come out and play, or get anywhere near me (I can’t blame him on that last one).

As if all this weren’t enough, Crash has recently decided that he no longer desires to take his thyroid medicine in his food. He drools out the liquid medicine I give him as well, so not sure how much he is actually getting. So I am more than a little worried that he is starting to look a little thin around the back hip area again.

I always say, they keep me on my toes. They keep me in the poor house too.

 

 

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