July 2, 2013: 6 toes, No balls

July 2, 2013:  6 Toes, No Balls

Today is the day Rudy goes to the vet to get fixed.  We had to pick up his food last night at 10PM and he was not real happy about that.  All night, he was rubbing up against my face, purring at turbo speed.  I know he was thinking "I love you, where is my food?  Pet me, where is my food?  If I push real hard will you figure out I WANT MY FOOD? Have you forgotten?  I was homeless for,  I am sure it was years, and I WANT TO KNOW I HAVE FOOD!"

 He rubbed my face, he rubbed Spouse's face.  He purred extra loud, but as parents of pets, we know we must be firm.  We had gotten a cat carrier from someone who had lost their cat in a national park (do I sense a trend?).  It was held together with zip ties, but it was good enough.  We did not want to put Rudy in the cat carrier until we took him into the vet's office.

 We load him in my arms in the truck and off we go.  Spouse wants to put more air in the tires after our romp yesterday so we stop at the Jackson Lodge.  Rudy is edgy.  He wants to look outside.  He isn't crying but he won't sit still.  He visits Crew in the back seat.  He comes back to me.  Finally, by the time we leave the park, he is calm in my arms.  About 10 miles down the road, Spouse pets him and he wakes up and stretches... and wants to fidget some more.  He sits on the center console (much like how I used to stand on the front seat of the car when I was little and before seat belts were around).  Eventually, I got him back on my lap for the rest of the ride.  As we near the vet, we put him in the cat carrier.  He was NOT amused and started to cry like a common cat!

 The office was comfy and they took us into a room where the tech examined him.  Given his wound history, she took his temperature (he was not amused) and gave him a once-over.  Her first comment when she took him out of the carrier... "He has mittens!".  6-Toes has won another heart!  We decided to have the whole works done: fixing, vaccinations, and chipping.  And then we left to walk around the town.

First order of business was breakfast.  As we were ordering, the vet called and said that given his high risk history, she should test for feline leukemia, and if he has it, we needed to agree to put him down.  I lost my appetite.  In my heart of hearts, I had thought about the prospects of leukemia, but the thought of putting him down after all we went to rescue him was so upsetting.  He was just leaping in our bed, rubbing our faces and purring so hard he was shaking Hannah.  How could we put him down?  I can't remember the last time I ate only half of my breakfast, but I just couldn't eat. 

We walked around Jackson.  It is a cute town, with western frontier storefronts and wood boardwalks.  Lots of high end galleries, T-shirt shops and sporting good stores.  Jackson is a hub of outdoor activity.  River rafting, kayaking, canoeing, hiking, backpacking, mountain biking, fishing (and extreme versions of all of them!).  I could go on and on about the outdoor fun.  Since we had gotten there early, it was easy to find a parking space.  By the time we finished breakfast (around 9:30), the town was packed. 

 And I waited for the vet to call. 

We went from store to store.  Then the vet did call, and all was well with Rudy!  I was so relieved, a few tears came to my eyes.  Now I could enjoy the rest of the day. 

We got the truck washed, and did some grocery shopping then went to pick up the nutless wonder.  They put him in his carrier, we put him in the truck, then tried to negotiate the horrendous traffic.  Of course, the males had to stop for a Dairy Queen ice cream... in a tiny parking lot... on the left side of the street which meant we would have to make a left hand turn... hopefully, we could get it done today...  Fortunately, somebody wanted to turn into the DQ so we got our break and got out on the highway headed to Hannah.

Not one peep from Rudy in his cat carrier this time.  He would lick his incision occasionally, but he kept quiet.  When we unloaded the truck, we carried him in his container into Hannah.  The recommendation for him was to keep him quiet the rest of the day, and we should probably not give him food, as he may get sick.

I opened his carrier, and he stormed out and asked where his food was!  Oh goody, there is my mouse.  I gotta chase it.  Look, Daddy is putting food away, surely he will give me some.  Maybe if I jump on the kitchen counter he will know I am hungry.

 Rudy has some lessons to learn...  He was so restless looking for his food, probably having flashbacks to that horrible time in his life when he had to fend for himself, we finally gave him a little food.  We will give him more later.

According to the vet, he is about one year old so I think we should declare his birthday as July 1, in commemoration of Doug's mom's birthday.  For Marie, who was deathly afraid of cats even though she thought they were beautiful, this is a strange but touching honor!