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Thursday, 03/20/2003 - 10:28 AM PDT
The topic: Scream!

Thursday, March 20, 2003 Argh! What a day I had yesterday. I could do just fine without days like that.

Tuesday, I let Oliver out. Junior was also out. Oliver eyed Junior quite a bit, but never made a move in his direction. Of course, I kept myself between the two to begin with, but it did get less tense. Junior was able to lie down on the patio and Oliver sunned himself. Well, yesterday was such a nice day, I opened up all doors and windows and let Oliver out. Of course, I kept an eye on him, but he didn't seem the least bit interested in Junior. All was good. Eventually, Ollie came back into the office and jumped up on the office chair. That was good and I left the doors open, just in case he wanted to go back outside. Plus it was really nice for me to not have to get up and down to let cats out.

I was writing out checks, paying bills, when I heard a spat in the kitchen. Instead of going the long way to the kitchen, I went across the patio. And Oliver followed. He's always interested in cat fights. Unfortunately, Junior got up at the same time and was walking toward me. Bad idea. Oliver went after him. He chased him halfway across the yard. Junior had beat feet back to the side of the shop and Oliver was just sitting there, watching. I ran inside the kitchen to see who was fighting. It was Jackie and Lucky. Lucky can be a real pill, not even liking other cats to look at her. Things would have been better off if I'd not even have looked. Because Oliver was still waiting for Junior. I got between them and Oliver backed off. And DeeJay came running over to pick up where Oliver left off! He was going after Junior! Poor Junior! He didn't know what was happening to him. I scooped up DeeJay in one arm, Oliver in the other and brought them both into the house. I went through the house shutting doors. Oliver was limping, but I thought maybe it would get better if he just stayed off of it for a while.

Well, he slept for a couple of hours, then when he got down, he was putting no weight at all on the bad leg. None. So, I called the vet (the regular vet is on vacation) and talked to Becky. She said to give him pain killers and just then he walked by me and that's when I noticed he wasn't using that leg at all. She said to bring him down.

So, I put on some socks and shoes, got the carrier and got the cat. He really didn't want to go into the carrier, but I was finally able to get him in. I had to be careful that I didn't bump that bum leg of his. We got down to the vet's office, then proceeded to wait. Becky finally called us back into a room and she looked at his paw. It didn't seem like the office was all that busy, but I waited for quite a while for the vet. Becky took x-rays of the leg and we waited for the film to develop. The vet looked at the pictures. He was obviously unsure of what he was looking at. He brings up "referring Oliver to a specialist". He thinks he sees a break and infection in the leg. Alarmed, I look at Becky. There's nothing that Oliver has done in this house that would cause the leg to break. If anything, it was an existing problem. She rolls her eyes and says very quietly "just wait until the doc is back from vacation". The temp vet leaves the examining room and goes into another room. Becky wonders if he's going to look in a book. I ask if they still have Oliver's original x-rays, that maybe it would be a good thing to compare the two. She says that's a good idea, surprised that she didn't think of it. She started looking and unfortunately, she wasn't able to find them right off. She found the envelope they should have been in , but they weren't there. But she did locate them and the doctor compared the two sets. The leg didn't look that much different now than it did then. He and I kind of got into it when he suggested (again) that I take Oliver to a specialist. I'm sorry, but I'd much rather get this advice from my regular doctor, not a temp, who obviously didn't know what a cat's leg is supposed to look like. Since this wasn't life threatening, I'd much rather wait the week and a half until the regular (I keep wanting to say "real") vet was back. If there had to be surgery on Oliver's leg, he can do it. After all, Oliver has been like this since December, I don't see the urgency of it now. I did ask where the specialist was and he said "Kearny Mesa". Well, I'm not driving that far. I get so nervous. Like I said, if it had been a life and death situation, I'd have gotten Brian to drive, but it wasn't. "Well, is your husband afraid to drive?" Need I say I was about ready to poke this fella in the eye with my index finger? As it ended, he was having all of the x-rays, dated and with an explanation of the situation sent to the specialist.

Becky tried to get Elena to come help her splint the leg, but the doctor got in there first. *sigh* He put on a soft cast and I feel so sorry for Oliver. Becky told me to come back in on Friday and she'd redo the leg. The doctor wouldn't be in, just two of the techs. She also handed me an envelope with two weeks worth of torbutrol for Oliver.

There was no charge and I took Oliver out to the truck. I set the carrier in the passenger's seat and was annoyed when I realized that I couldn't back out because of the truck that had parked next to me. It was a full sized Ford 350 Diesel and the jerk had parked diagonally. He was at the cleaners. There was no way I was going to take the chance of backing out and hitting his truck with any part of mine. If I'd had backed straight out, I would have hit the truck with the Ranger's mirror. I waited outside of the truck when he came out of the cleaner's. "Are you waiting for me?" Yes, I said irritated. "You've got plenty of room." I hate being told that. I replied "I'm not real good at backing up and I don't want to hit your truck." When I pull into a parking lot like the one at the vet's, I make sure I choose a spot where I can back straight out, a spot where I won't need to maneuver around any other vehicles, a spot where there won't be any vehicle behind me. He said "well, I'll only be about thirty seconds more. I got into my truck and waited for him to leave. He ran back into the cleaner's, did what he had to do, then left. Moron. "Oh, yeah, I've got a big truck I can do what I want to do."

It was getting late and I just knew that when Brian got home, he'd see that I was gone and so was Oliver. And I just knew that he'd worry that Junior finally fought back (Brian had come home earlier to pick up something from the shop and saw that all the doors were opened). Much to my surprise, when I drove down the street I saw that his truck wasn't in the driveway, meaning he wasn't home. Huh. It was almost six, where could he be? I pulled in to the driveway, got out of the truck and checked the mail. I went back to the truck and got the carrier with Oliver out. As I was locking the truck and getting the housekey ready, I saw Brian's truck coming down the street. I waited.

Brian got out of his truck and locked it, alarmed when he saw Oliver in the carrier. "Did Junior get him?" What did I tell you? I explained what had happened. Brian was upset. Especially when he saw Oliver. That soft cast is huge on his leg. It makes the leg about an inch longer than his other leg. I can hardly wait until tomorrow. And Oliver is really pissed off this morning. He did make it up into the recliner last night, so I know he's got a good spot to snooze. I gave him one of the pain killers this morning, but he's still mighty uncomfortable.

Life slowly calmed down, although some of the cats are really curious about this new cat with the weird looking leg. Katie will go up to the recliner, put her front paws on the seat and stretch as high as she can to look at Oliver. Then she'll hiss. Ciara isn't quite as bad, but she keep staring at him, too. I fed the inside cats, Brian fed the dog. Then he made us sandwiches and I fed the outfront cats. He'd said something about going back to the shop to paint wood and I said "it's too late, stay home". He did. We watched some television, a little on the war. I got all of the cats in and laid down on the loveseat with an afgan over me. Brian turned off the television around nine and went to bed.

I heard a very loud exclamation of ":poop!" I yelled "what?" Well, some cat had peed on Brian's pillow. It was even on the bed between the pillows. He took the bedspread off and used one of the new pillows. I used the stockyard strength odor killer. Sleep wasn't real smelly, thank goodness. The spread is in the washer right now and I'll strip the bed later. What a great way to end a crappy day.

Hope today is better.

Replies: 6 comments

You have such patience with the kitties. My cats have outbursts and pee on furniture,rugs and clothes but the bed is the absolute worst. If you catch who's doing it how will you discourage them not to do it again? :P

Posted by Bella @ 03/20/2003 11:23 AM PDT

The only thing we can do is to try to keep the bed from being a good place to pee. I'll spraying Feliway often and use a repellant on the spot where whoever is going. I'm sure the reason for the pee now is Oliver.

Posted by lisaviolet @ 03/20/2003 11:39 AM PDT

You poor thing, that was a crappy day! I sure hope it's just a treatable infection or just a sprain or something with Oliver and nothing serious (or expensive & painful). Best wishes and prayers being sent your way!

Posted by Melanee @ 03/20/2003 06:34 PM PDT

I think of you often, and how patient you are.
Timothy has the same effect on The Bunch, and he had a blue bandage on his leg from an IV so the others are even more curious and claiming more territory :plain:
Now I'm off to the washing machine.

Posted by Bobbie @ 03/21/2003 05:59 AM PDT

That is the worst cast I've ever seen. :crazy: What an amature! I can't stand temp. Vets. I feel very sorry for Oliver & especially you.

Posted by Darlene @ 03/22/2003 09:32 AM PDT

Poor Oliver! I can't help but laugh at how long that cast is... Good Lord, I think they could have made it a lil' shorter! Poor baby!

Hopes and wishes that Oliver gets better SOON!

Posted by Honest @ 03/25/2003 05:46 AM PDT

lisaviolet is fifty something, married with no kids, takes care of lots of cats, likes taking photographs, loves Southern California weather and spends altogether too much time avoiding her responsibilities.

March 2003

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