Lil’ man Ozzy was in solitude again. Ever since Mama Mia here took him to the vet to deposit a few body parts, he’s been afraid of being reincarcinated. To work up the sympathy factor, he’s been favoring his right front paw ever since, holding it up in offering, as if to say, ya you yank out all my claws, sure you don’t wanna just cut off the rest of my leg? Mama knew it was just a ploy, this was not her first kitty con.
Of course, being the best kitty mama ever, she called and double checked with the vet right away who confirmed her suspicions. Phantom limb pain. Happens all the time, he’ll get used to it once all his stitches dissolve.
Weeks go by, stitches still there, paw still up. Baby Bri comes over and says, as only a two-year old can, “OZZY needs go to DOCTOR, got STITCHES STUCK in his paw!”. So once again mama calls the doctor and the doctor says….bring him in for a check Saturday morning, maybe he DOES have a STUCK STITCH.
Friday night mama casually puts the cage on the countertop, leaving the door invitingly open. This time when Ozzy jumped up there to investigate, she doesn’t shoot him between the eyes with the water gun. Saturday morning, when Ozzy was hanging out on the countertop, thinking he was getting away with something, mama stuffed him inside the clinker and clanked the door shut.
All the way to the vet in the car he yeowled. It was never a good thing to get locked up and take a car ride. He never came home the same.
The vet picked him up by the scruff of the neck like a mama cat would, (but I still hate it, they fight against it so much!) and pressed on all his paws. Ozzy hissed and spit as much as he could and got a few good swipes in with his back claws. Vet released him back into the cage and said he thought maybe there was a bit of infection in the right paw, and that he was going to take him into the back treatment room cause he would have to nick it open. So I went back into the office and was chit chatting with all the girls.
All of a sudden a jungle cat screech penetrated the relative calm, followed by an even louder screech, and accompanied by hisses and growling. It sounded like a couple of bobcats on the loose back there! All the waiting clients looked up in fear, and I said, “That’s my boy!”
Actually I was worried and hurried back into the room where they handed me my spitting mad kitten and said nope, no problem. I asked what all the screeching was about and the vet said he stuck a needle in his paw. No infection, just a STUCK STITCH, like Baby Bri said. So I comforted Ozzy all the while murmuring in his ear what a big bad doctor he was, poor little kitten. Vet knew I was teasing of course. Kinda. That’s the one big difference between cats and dogs. Dogs come when you call them, jump in the car, sit in stoic silence when jabbed with needles. Cats run under beds, hiss, spit, bite, screech and howl. And that’s when they are in a GOOD mood, lol. I just hate it that docs have to hold them by the scruff and immediately put the cat on the defensive. But cats just don’t sit still for docs to poke them and stuff. Just not their nature. At least not mine.
So we are back home. Ozzy is taking his nap. Mama will soon be joining him. Excitement done for the day.