Rough kitty moment

Today I got to wrestle the little lion by tossing a half pill down her throat, closing the wild jaws and then holding her there while I kept her mouth clamped shut to make sure the pill went down. I was so happy, after the fourth try, that it was in her mouth, I kissed her little pink nose. She growled at me.

The holistic drops were making a very small difference, so with the advice of a very trustworthy family vet (and my real vet), I went and picked up the anxiety pills for her to take. I laughed hysterically when the vet assistant came out with a little tiny kitten to show me how to give my crazy lion a pill. He gave me pill hider treats which I was sure wouldn't work. He showed me how to hold her, to open the jaw, to close it and then to make sure the pill goes down. Again, I laughed because she is not calm or even close to relaxed. I will get good at it because I will be giving her these for three to six months depending on how long it takes for her to adjust the crazy noises and wild winds we experience here.

Just the other morning, she was jumping up on the bed and missed (or maybe psyched herself out halfway up) and fell. She fell wrong and her back foot was contorted in a very non-normal position. I immediately had a fit and started hyperventilating. She started to back up on three feet while the other, back foot, stuck out all weird. She was making this horrible noise and growling at the same time. Her foot was broken. I called Saint, but quickly realized he was at work. I then called my mom who transferred the phone to dad because she couldn't understand me. The moment I heard my dad's voice, I calmed down and realized I had to call the vet and possibly the emergency vet. By the time I got the vet's machine to leave a message I realized it was quiet.

Izabel was sitting normal and looking at me. Granted she wasn't moving, but she looked okay. I went downstairs to look up the emergency vet in the area since I had to leave a message on the vet's phone. While I was looking that up, the vet called. I walked up and saw Izabel sitting at the top of the stairs. I didn't get to see how she moved from the bedroom to the hallway. I explained the situation to the vet and she said I needed to figure to view her leg.

I sat down and pet her, she immediately got up and started talking to me. I could hear the panic in her little cat cry. But she was moving and putting weight on the leg. She was also favoring that leg. When I turned around, she ran down the stairs.

My jaw hit the floor.

Okay, her foot isn't broken. Emergency over.

At this point, the vet wanted me to observe her for an hour and then call if necessary.

I called work and told them I would be late. Then proceeded to sit within viewing distance of Izabel while reading.

She stared at me and I at her. But of course, she never moved.

She was shaking, like she was cold.

She just sat there with her tail underneath her. Looking at me. Shivering.

Poor thing.

I finally got up and petted her. I poured food in her bowl and she came around the corner. She was walking with a small limp. She seemed to be okay. I figured I would watch her over the next couple of days and see if I needed to take her in to the vet, but I felt she was fine.

Now, whenever she has to jump, no matter how short the jump is - she psyches herself out and misses every time. I am worried she will hurt herself while I am gone. Hell, I am worried she will hurt herself while I am here.

She is my baby. I have raised her since she was five weeks old. I can't imagine my life without her. Yes, she is crazy. Yes, she bites when scared or hurt or whatever. But she is mine and she needs me. And god help me, I love her with all my heart.

2 comments:

Pepsi Breath said...

It's always scary to see your baby hurting and frightened. She's lucky to have you to take care of her.

jayayceeblog said...

That kind of stuff is always so scary and heart-wrenching. One of our Yorkies used to stretch by dragging his legs out behind him and both knees would sometimes pop out of the socket. Then he would scream in pain and we'd rush him to the animal hospital. After half a dozen times of this happening, we finally scheduled him for knee surgery. It was well worth the expense because he lived a long, happy life after this. Can you imagine how many times a day our pets hurt themselves or pull a muscle or something while we're not home? Probably constantly! Glad she's okay!