Emily update…

The vet called today and said all the tests came back fine.  He asked how she was doing and I said, “It’s a nightmare.  I spend my time crawling around on the rugs, or trying to catch her.  We are both exhausted and frustrated.  She’s terrified when she sees me.”  He laughed, and said, “You’re not alone.”  I was considering death by falling off my roof, if I could get out of one of the windows, and he was laughing.  Then he asked how she was doing.  I told him she was fine, EXCEPT FOR BEING TORTURED BY THE PILL THING. I told him she probably didn’t even get more than five pills.  He said…yes, he really said this, “Don’t give her anymore.  Just stop the pills, but save them in case we need them at a later date.”  I said, “Just stop them?”  He said, “Yes.”  I didn’t ask how she could just stop them and be okay but, as the really old saying goes, never look a gift horse in the mouth.  What that means I’m not sure but I think it means, say than you and run.  So, that’s what I did.

With those few words, “stop giving them to her, the sun came out in my heart.  It was that easy, and then I was glad I couldn’t get the window open so I wasn’t on the roof when he called..

Emily still runs away from me but I think with time, she’ll be okay.  So for now, the nightmare of the pills, is over.

 

 

 

Emily…story below.

I locked her in the bathroom, so I could give her the antibiotic.  She went mad and started pulling her fur out of her hip.  So, I let her out and now she hides day and night and isn’t getting her medicine.  I’ve gone from depressed to despair.  She is terrified when she sees me.  I caught her once today, but found one of the two pills, a very tiny one, on the stair.  She she didn’t get that.  She’s supposed to be getting the antibiotic 2X a day, but if she gets it once, it’s a miracle.  Yesterday not at all.

We are both exhausted.  I feel like getting rid of all my furniture, or putting it in the middle of each room, so she can’t hide.  Either that or put her in the vet for a week, which I don’t want to do, at all.

We re both going insane.  So many places I can’t reach her and she just sits there and looks at me, as if I’m trying to kill her, instead of save her life.  The surgery went perfectly, the medication, not so much.

I’ve been thinking of running away…a lot.  LOL  Like a five year old.  Pack up my fuzzy rabbit and just hitting the road.  Leaving Emily to live with someone who is better at doing what has to be done.  I am not the Cat Goddess Bastet.  Emily does not worship at my paws.  She fears me and the tiny pills I have between my fingers that take two seconds to give her, but it takes all day and night to get them in her mouth, IF, I’m lucky.

I don’t know what’s going on.  People talk to me but I don’t listen, all I can think of is how many more hours will I have to look for her, and will I ever be able to give her the medicine.  She needs the medication because of a complication, not because of the actual surgery.  This should have been over, but it’s not.  It may never be over.  When I die, I think I’ll be in charge of catching cats, wherever I end up, and there will be bookcases where they can hide and couches they can crawl behind.  And that will be my personal hell, for trying to keep her alive and healthy.

My German Shepard, just stood there and let me drop the meds into his open mouth.  He was a good dog.  I miss him.  Although he was afraid of one of our cats, and I don’t blame him.  Everyone was afraid of Gota.  Everyone.

Emily…

My cousin’s daughter…what does that make her to me?  A cousin once removed. or a just my little cousin?  Anyway, she called this morning and said, “I’m coming over in awhile, and I’m bringing mom (my cousin).  Can’t tell you how happy I was.  I stayed up until 2 a.m. this morning, and never got the pills into my cat.  I was so tired. I had to take long breaks, because I couldn’t constantly follow her around and make her more stressed.  I finally gave up and went to bed.  Then I woke up, remembered what was going on, and immediately felt awful again.  I can’t tell you how happy I was to get her phone call.

Some people are meant for their jobs.  My little cousin is all business.  I am not kidding when I say that she could take down a water buffalo, give him three shots, six pills, check his ears and do a couple of other things before before he knew what hit him.  They she’d be on to the next one, telling the water buffalo to quit complaining, it was for his own good.

She walked in, got the pills and laid out some things on the table…things she brought for me to use later.  I said I had to leave the room, since I couldn’t watch, and took my cousin upstairs.  A few minutes later she shouted, “I NEED TOWELS.”

So, I brought towels down to her and she was literally SITTING on top of my cat.  All I could see was Emmie’s head.  I left instantly.  She gave her the pills and something else.  I was so stressed (it’s all in our heads, but it’s there, nonetheless), but the picture of her sitting on top of Emmie was so silly.  Apparently she wrapped her up and then put the other towel around her neck, so she couldn’t wiggle while she gave her the pills.  She would so do this to a water buffalo.  She really would.

She said Emmie hissed and growled at her.  She has never done that before.  Never.

The good news is that Em is fine and her incision looks good, no need for the cone.  Heavy sigh of relief.

Emily just ate.  So the pill worked, and she may not need another one.  She just one half pill a day, left.

My little cousin said that if Em had gotten away from her she didn’t know if she could have caught her again.  She said Emmy curls into a ball and is like water, slipping out of your hands.

Bottom line…I was able to take a few deep breaths.

My cousin brought a French Silk Pie, so after the whole Emmie thing, we sat down and had chocolate, as smooth as its name.  I didn’t have any food in the house, because I haven’t gone to the store since this thing started.

Even better news…my little cousin is coming back tomorrow.  How lucky am I!

 

 

Emily…

I’ve had a lot of cats.  I have never experienced anything like this.  My other cats were inside cats.  They were petted, carried around, played with and slept with us.  Emily lived outside for at least 9 years.

I have never hugged her.  She has never tried to sit on my lap or do any of the things regular inside cats do.

Therefore, trying to give her medication, or do anything at all is terrifying to her.  She’s not used to being touched (I pet her when she lets me).  All this touching and trying to hold her still is scaring her so much.

My other cats were afraid of the vet but they were used to being handled.  Used to being around people.  That’s what is making this so very, very, very difficult.  We are both terrified.  I never took in an adult outside cat.  I don’t think she was feral.  I think someone threw her out.  She’s gentle, so sweet and kind.  She’s not like the feral cats I’ve had i my yard.   But she’s been in my yard for all those years and just came in  in January.  She’s just not used to being handled.  So when I try to give her a pill she thinks she’s being captured or killed and is terrified.

That is why this is so hard.

Emmie…

It’s almost time to TRY and give her two pills.  I have to be careful of her incision.  I’m terrified AGAIN.  For a person who is pretty much fearless and never afraid of anything…anything that happens to any animals just sends me down a rabbit hole.  It’s ridiculous and I know it.

My cousin’s daughter called me. She’s a vet tech, as I said before.   She definitely thinks I’m insane.  She tells me not to worry about this or that, but easier said than done.  She told me to just pick her up (hahahahahaha) and wedge her between the side of the couch and my leg and give her the pills.

This is what I actually heard her say…pick her up and watch her insides fall out because her incision tore open and she’s going to die, right there in front of you and you’ll never get over it so you may as well die too.

See, the difference?

And she’s not drinking water or really eating.  So I feel like a ten ton weight is pressing down on me, and yes, I know how silly that is.  My cousin keeps saying, “She’ll be fine, don’t worry,” but I can’t seem to stop.  I don’t worry.  When my son was going 90 mph down the Dan Ryan, never worried for a second.  I am not a worrier…unless my cat is involved.  Sigh.  They can’t talk.  I can’t explain what I’m doing to her.  Sigh, again.

So, that’s where I’m at, at the moment.  I started trying to give her last night’s pills at around 10:30 and finished at 1:00 a.m.

I’ve had lots of cats, dogs, lizards and birds.  Guinea pigs, hamsters and pretty much anything you can name.  One of my cats was diabetic and I had to give him shots everyday, which, after completely thinking I could NEVER do it, did it…for years.

But surgery is different.

She scratched on her cat scratcher a couple times today so, I felt better for a few minutes.  She lets me pet her.

I read three books, since yesterday afternoon, because I’m trying to distract myself.  It’s kind of working for a half hour, here and there.

All this will be over soon, just not soon enough for me.

 

Update on Emmie.

She’s doing good and can come home tonight.  Will have to take two pills (wish me luck with that) and has been given antibiotics that will last 2 weeks, and has had pain meds.  I can’t wait to see her, even though I’m terrified to see her incision.  But so far so good.  Thank you for your well wishes.  ❤

 

Emily was playing, and heard a noise. She tears the feathers out of all her toys and I find them all over the house.

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Emily…

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Emily has staked out the family room rug. It’s getting grubby fast, as you can imagine,, but I’m afraid to vacuum and terrify her. Not the best photo but she’s playing with her toy, so…

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Emily is doing great. Nap time. She’s so fabulous and we are both HAPPY as larks in a wild flower field on a warm sunny day in summer.

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Emily…