Is there such a thing as a semi-quarantine? Well, there is now because I just invented it. Last night, Ginger was following me around and I finally discovered what was bothering her. There is a half dollar size patch of fur missing from her side. Don't try this at home (Ginger is the gentlest cat I've ever encountered), but I grabbed her to examine the suspicious looking spot. Sure enough, in the bald spot there were nasty looking puncture wounds.
Today, I grabbed her again, brought her up onto the screened porch and stuffed the frightened little cat into a carrier. For the hell of it, I then grabbed Tommy and spent 10 minutes wrestling him into a carrier. Yesterday I had noticed weird hard lump of fur sticking upon his back. I was worried there might be something nasty causing it. After both cats were caged, I hauled the yowling pair to Golddiggers' Animal Hospital.
Poor Ginger got her side shaved, her wounds cleaned up, was injected with a rabies shot and then was injected with an antibiotic shot. I got a weird deja vu-ish feeling as the vet prattled on about a six month quarantine. Yes, technically, Ginger's rabies shot was a couple weeks overdue. I also got that deja vu feeling as I signed the paper stating that to my knowledge Ginger hadn't bitten anyone. Keeping Ginger in until her wounds healed was also batted around. Hmmmm. I already have six cats in the house. That would be one hell of a quarantine. Maybe I could get Ginger her own apartment or a hotel room? Ah, decisions, decisions. After Tommy, ginger and I got home, I sprang Tommy from the carrier. Then I I brought her home, blocked off a section of the screened porch and put her in there. Then I dosed the poor cat with Front-line to eliminate her passengers, some vile little deer ticks.
This is the second time in a few months that Ginger has gotten herself into trouble. I suspect that her "surviving outdoors as a feral luck" is running out. I really don't like orange cats and definitely don't want any more cats in the house. But Ginger is an exceptionally a nice cat. She's so gentle, she makes the indoor cats, especially Tommy, seem like hooligans. So I will have my head examined and then try to assimilate her into the indoor herd after her wounds heal.
The vet also examined Tommy. She figured the weird thing sticking up on his back was a mat and shaved it off to make sure there was nothing nasty underneath it. I didn't know a short haired cat could get mats, but leave it to Tommy. She said he has a really thick undercoat, so instead of brushing, I should try combing him. Gulp. Last time I tried to comb Tommy, he ate the comb. I guess I'll have to get a sturdier comb. And since Tommy now tips the scale at over 16 pounds, the vet suggested cutting back on Tommy's food. Right... But since the staff at the animal hospital were calling him Fatboy, maybe he's having trouble grooming himself.
I wonder how many calories are in combs.
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