Thursday, December 02, 2010
Uncle, I say! Uncle!!!
Okay, week. I get it. I fucking get it! Multiple trips to the vet, getting a call this morning at work from Laura saying "COME HOME. THERE IS BLOOD ALL OVER THE KITCHEN FLOOR."
I zip home, assuming it's Kirby, but when I get there Kirby and Lexi are sitting on the sofa, both looking fine. Buzz the cat is on the bed sleeping. I look in the kitchen and there are three distinct pools of blood, one of them HUGE. (Seriously huge. I placed a quarter next to it for perspective an took a picture to show the vet. I will spare you and not post it here.) Laura says she hasn't seen Maddie. Holy crap, if this is Maddie's blood the little cat must be dead in the basement. I call her name and she trots up the stairs, meowing, "What's up?" I pick her up, look her over. She's fine. Okay, it must be Kirby. I get him in my car and fly to the vet's. I show the doc the pic and explain what's up. Then Kirby is led to the back and of course he glances over his shoulder at me and I feel like shit. Like I've betrayed our shelter dog and put him back into a position he hates, surrounded by strangers. He's a rescue and is scared of strangers, so an overnight stay at the vet is super stressful. Yeah, I tear up in the car.
I get home and use most of a roll of paper towels and cleaning spray cleaning up blood. Holy crap.
The vet calls an hour later and says Kirby is doing better than expected, based on the initial conditions under which he was brought in. His red blood count is fine, his temp is normal. Oh, and it turns out it was rectal blood. I had just spent 20 minutes cleaning up rectal blood.
That's been our week. Holy shit, when is Christmas? I could use a little cheer.
I zip home, assuming it's Kirby, but when I get there Kirby and Lexi are sitting on the sofa, both looking fine. Buzz the cat is on the bed sleeping. I look in the kitchen and there are three distinct pools of blood, one of them HUGE. (Seriously huge. I placed a quarter next to it for perspective an took a picture to show the vet. I will spare you and not post it here.) Laura says she hasn't seen Maddie. Holy crap, if this is Maddie's blood the little cat must be dead in the basement. I call her name and she trots up the stairs, meowing, "What's up?" I pick her up, look her over. She's fine. Okay, it must be Kirby. I get him in my car and fly to the vet's. I show the doc the pic and explain what's up. Then Kirby is led to the back and of course he glances over his shoulder at me and I feel like shit. Like I've betrayed our shelter dog and put him back into a position he hates, surrounded by strangers. He's a rescue and is scared of strangers, so an overnight stay at the vet is super stressful. Yeah, I tear up in the car.
I get home and use most of a roll of paper towels and cleaning spray cleaning up blood. Holy crap.
The vet calls an hour later and says Kirby is doing better than expected, based on the initial conditions under which he was brought in. His red blood count is fine, his temp is normal. Oh, and it turns out it was rectal blood. I had just spent 20 minutes cleaning up rectal blood.
That's been our week. Holy shit, when is Christmas? I could use a little cheer.
# posted by smacky @ 9:57 PM 
Comments:
<< Home
God, I hope your wore gloves. I hope Kirby is going to be okay. That poor guy, after everything he's been through, too. You did the right thing by taking him to the vet, as much as it sucks for him. He may not understand, but he's in the hands of somebody who is qualified to help him, and that's just what he needs.
Post a Comment
<< Home
