Friday, April 13, 2012

Country Life = Cat trials


Sometime last week, 13 year old Billy got in a fight with a stray cat. Billy got the short end of the stick - he ended up with 2 holes below his ear. As in from teeth. As in the other cat bit down on his head. Hard.

Billy was neutered when he was a kitten. I thought that was supposed to keep male cats from fighting. And from spraying.  He fights occasionally. He sprays often. Maybe the vet missed something?

Anyway, last Friday it appeared he needed stitches. I called the vet. She was out of town, and would be for several days. Ok then. We're on our own.

We bought a comfy cone...


Just like this one. Note it has a picture of a dog on it. I won't humiliate Billy by showing a photo of him wearing a cone with a dog on it. He's very sensitive about things like that.

I will show you a photo I found online of a cat who didn't mind the humiliation....


Make the cat bigger, change the color to orange, and that's how Billy has looked for several days now.

It works great. At first he tried desperately to back out of it, but he can't. And he also can't scratch the 2 wounds, which has allowed us to treat him. Neosporin and gauze have worked wonders, and it appears he's going to heal without stitches.

Smooth sailing.

Well....except for the evening George got him all wound up.

Billy had been hanging out in our basement, enjoying the world of carpet, pillows and sofas. He was gently petted and loved often, which he adores.

Then George decided to play a little rougher with him, which Billy also adores.

Billy had been in lounge mode for several days, but this slightly rougher play stirred something in him. In a few minutes time, he went from sweet kitty-kitty to wildcat.

He sounded like a cat in heat. He was pacing the floor. He wanted to go outside. NOW.

We turned out all the lights and went to bed, thinking that would calm him down. We left him in the basement with the gate shut that we had put up to keep him down there. We don't let him upstairs - remember I mentioned he sprays often? Call us crazy, but we don't care for cat urine on the walls of our house.

10:00 PM
We hadn't much more than laid down in bed till we heard the incessant meows getting louder. We didn't think he could jump over the gate with the comfy cone on. We were wrong. In his gentle, sweet, kitty-kitty state he didn't even try it. But now, in his wildcat state, he apparantly sailed over the gate with ease. Up the stairs, down the hall. Staring at me in the dark while wearing his comfy cone with it's reflective border.

"I want to go outside. NOW."

Sorry Billy. Back downstairs he went. George got an extra screen door we had, and he propped it up against the opening.

10:30 PM
Back to bed we went. The meowing continued.

11:00 PM
Thump. Thump. He was back.

"I said I want to go outside. NOW."

Sorry Billy. Back downstairs he went. The formerly propped up door had been knocked down. George set it back up and tied it to the bannister.

11:15 PM
We went back to bed. The meowing continued.

MIDNIGHT
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.
He was back.

"What is wrong with you people? I said I want to go outside!!! LISTEN TO ME!"

Who knew a cat wearing a comfy cone could climb a screen door, jump through the 12 inch opening at the top, and land safely on a stairway on the other side of the door?

Maybe we need to see if Hollywood needs any stunt cats.

12:05 PM
George carried Billy into the garage, while muttering something about shutting Billy up with his .45.

Don't worry. He loves Billy, and wouldn't really shoot him.

I think.

After spending the night in the garage, he calmed back down. For the most part.

His wounds are healing very nicely, and he's back to laying gently on our laps and soaking up all the love.

And George is under strict orders to pet Billy very, very gently.

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