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Friday, December 11, 2009


Tabbies with Toothaches

Many people feel as if their animals are their “furry kids”-my husband and I are part of that crowd. Yes, we do that sickening thing by addressing ourselves as their “mom and dad”. We refer to them as our “furry little trouble causers”-when in reality, they’re just cute, smart and no trouble at all. And yes, the cat sleeps with us. Sunshine used to stretch out between us as well until Steve turned our bed into something out of “Land of the Giants”. At age 11, poor Sunshine couldn’t even begin to get on the bed after that.

We considered getting her one of those doggie ramps/staircases, but then she started having issues getting up and down the stairs and was smart enough to “ground” herself to the first level. Now that is completely disregarded for only 2 reasons-one is I have a plate of carrot sticks and the other is I have a plate of sliced apple or pear. Then she braves life and limb, literally, to join me in my office.

As for Pepper, our somewhat less than agile gray tabby (he came to us with deformed front paws), he sleeps in my armpit or between my knees. Talk about pampered. I wouldn’t dream of moving for fear of disturbing him.

This brings me to the past two weeks. About 2 months ago we were at the vet for his rabies shot when the doctor noticed he had a cavity. A cavity? How could this be? He only eats cat food and cat treats-how could this happen? No matter, poor little guy was signed up for surgery on the day after Thanksgiving.

We chose that far away date for a good reason-the grandkids were taking up all my time and there was simply no way for me to get them in their car seats, the cat in his carrier, drive to the vet, reverse the steps, go home and do all of this all over again later the same day-all on my own.
And per the vet-it wasn’t an emergency. Oh-we should also be aware that in “many of these cases, the same tooth on the other side might show signs of needing to be pulled as well.”
Did I mention that cats and dogs do not get fillings?
So the day after Thanksgiving we took Pepper in. Sunshine was a pacing mess. She hunted all over the house for his carrier and him. She was NOT happy about the fact that we had confiscated her “baby”.

We got a call at 3 that afternoon telling us that Pepper was okay and in recovery. He actually had 3 teeth extracted. He got home and was not in the best of moods. We couldn’t give him his dry food or treats for an entire week. Then there was this pesky issue of having to give him antibiotics, orally, twice a day for 8 days. Oh boy, that was fun.

Don’t ask about the pain-we were only able to get the pain meds into him once. Even in his state, he actually hissed at us. Something we had only heard him do maybe 3 times in 6 years.
He not only slept with me, but decided that my armpit wasn’t near close enough. Nope. Since that day he’s been sleeping on my chest, head buried in my neck and paws holding onto my shoulders. Under the blankets as well.
No, I’m still not moving. And no, I’m not being silly. He’s my baby-if your baby were sick, wouldn’t you hold him too?

I took him in for his re-check. He’s fine, stitches did their job and let the wounds heal and then dissolved themselves. He’s got his dry food and his treats back. Sunshine’s happy because she knows exactly where he is.

We’re happy knowing that despite the $400 drain on our bank account; our baby is back to his usual happy self. We know that because he told us in cat talk.

Any of you care to argue with that?

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