Friday, September 11, 2009

A Stumpy Drama

This boy is so far behind after being away for over a week with no computer access. Today is the anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. This time of year is always a reminder for me on another level as it marks some of sadder milestones of my life. The two most notable would be my father passing away in 1985 and the loss of my Ron in 1992. I cherish the memories of these men in my life. The greatest honour I can do for them is to continue living in a positive manner.

A coping mechanism I’ve used for as long as I can remember is to use my sense of humour as a defensive shield. My corny jokes and puns have diffused tense situations for decades. People forget that in the deep past the court jester was one of the few who could tell truths to the seated, unapproachable kings and queens of history.

I called Sherri from the road Wednesday night from the Motel Six in Bowling Green. I wanted her to know that my ETA would be early Thursday morning. I was only 300 miles from home, but after driving 700 miles I was in no condition to push myself.

She warned me that Stumpy was limping about on three legs. Shit! What has that boy gotten into now? He is normally bouncing off the walls or at least sleeping on the bed, taking in the smells from the open window. It is not normal for him to stay under the bed……

It’s a five hour drive from Bowling Green to Tuscaloosa. When I worked at the Corvette plant back in 2004-2005 I made that trip too many times. There was a 4:00 a.m. wake up call for me. Stumpy had me so worried I was up at 3:00 a.m. At 3:15 I was on the road home.

It was 9:00 a.m. when I opened the front door. Stump was right there scooting out to the porch; hobbling on three legs. His left front paw was curled up. That boy loves being outside. He rubbed up against his favourite bushes and plants before parking himself in the middle of Michelle’s driveway next door. He could not use his front left paw and he meowed out in pain to me. It took a while before Stump let me handle him some. When I attempted to examine his bad leg he would let out that guttural growl to leave him alone. Finally he sprawled out on the rug to where I could see he chewed the fur off the back of his leg. It looked puffy and swollen.

Stump’s regular Vet does his surgery on Thursdays. I can’t hold off Stump getting attention. There is a Vet just around the corner from me. Stump was bundled up and taken there.

An examination revealed what I had feared. Stump had been bitten and his leg was infected. No doubt he was annoying Daggy and she hauled off and bit him. The Dr explained I had two choices in this situation.

1. I could first try a regimen of antibiotics to clear up the problem.

2. Surgery would be performed to open up the leg, clean it out and apply antibiotics directly to the injury. If option number one was unsuccessful there would be no choice but to perform number 2.

I remembered back to when Mom’s cat Fuzzy lived with me after her death. He loved being outside after a life of an indoor cat. He was declawed so being on the outside was dangerous for him even in my tiny secure backyard. It was 1996 and I was dismantling my house in preparation of selling. There was the sound of Fuzzy tearing into the house followed by a neighborhood Tom cat. The inside back door had closed: poor Fuzz was trapped. I was able to chase out that intruding cat.

What I did not realize was that Fuzzy was bitten during the attack. It was not till a few days later when I felt a huge “puss pocket” on his side late on a Sunday night. It had broken through by the time I rushed him to the Vet’s the first thing the next morning.

The infection was pretty bad. The incision to treat the damage went around Fuzzy’s entire right belly side. That attack on poor Fuzz determined me to never have a cat of mine declawed. I’ve paid the price for that decision in snagged clothes, ripped skin, and some clawed up furniture. At this point of my life I don’t care… material things are easily replaced.

After that experience with Fuzzy I chose the second option. It was with a heavy heart I left Stumpy at the Vets to undergo surgery in the afternoon.

The office called right around 4:00 p.m. Stumpy came through with flying colours. I could swing by and see him if I wanted. I did not take time to change out of my Utilikilt; leaving the house immediately. It never fails I get positive feedback from my Utilikit. A couple cars passed who gave me a “heads up" sign!

Stumpy was in a back cage, still groggy from the anesthetic. He lifted his head upon hearing my voice. His leg was bandaged up. The Dr explained how when he opened up the leg there was a deep “puss pocket” that he drained. There was no way an antibiotic treatment alone would have helped and surgery would have been inevitable. Stump had a fever of 104° when I brought him in, so I’m glad to have taken the course of action I did.

It breaks my heart to see an animal suffer. I was assured things will be back to normal in a day or two for my Stumpy.

Daggy assured me she will never bit her best pal again…….

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Tuscaloosa, Alabama, United States
Retired auto worker who can now spend too much time restoring his 1922 Bungalow Home. I'm involved in a number of varied activities from collecting bricks to rowing with a masters rowing group. This blog is to share different aspects of my life on my Facebook page. I've kept an on-line journal for eight years.