Friday The 13th: A Bad Day For Cats

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This old guy.

In the almost 11 years he’s been alive, he’s caused Mike and I to have a few worries. Once he got into a fight and didn’t show any signs that he was injured until the wound got infected. That led to us going to a 24 hour vet about 10 minutes after they started their “emergency” hours (and prices).

So yesterday when I woke up and found a dead mouse in the hallway I cursed him slightly for leaving it in a place I could have stepped on it and praised him for still being able to kill things in his old age. Spring is definitely moving in and things are starting to get out and about.

About an hour after I woke up I heard him yowling at the back door and trying to get in but not able to. He’s been in a few fights with the neighborhood cats so I hurried to the door to scoot him in just in case the offending animal was still around. I don’t think this fight was with a cat though.

As soon as I got him into our mudroom it was clear that he was very injured. He could barely move his back legs and was bleeding profusely from somewhere. I ran to get a towel while Mike looked him over and figured out that it was coming somewhere from his back end, but the amount of bleeding made it hard to tell exactly where. He had a cut on his face and his mouth was bleeding too, so it looked really really bad.

This all happened at 7am and when I called the emergency vet I was told they were 40 minutes away and, oh yeah, just for walking in the door right now we’ll charge you $500. Since we’d get to our regular vet when they opened at 8 in the same amount of time, we opted to wait it out and not pay an insane amount of money.

Louie laid down on the ground and we were able to get some food and water in him while we waited. I’m so grateful that Mike was home so he could take him to the vet while I stayed here with the still-sleeping Adam. I don’t know what I would have done with a bleeding cat, a toddler, and a giant belly to deal with at the same time.

It turns out it was a very large bite wound on his hind leg. The vet told Mike that a large dog had to have done it. Cats tend to slash and leave puncture wounds when they fight, not take chunks of flesh out. He stayed at the vet until Mike got off of work, then came home with a cone on his head and some drains in his wound. It looks awful, but once the swelling goes down and the drains come out I think it’ll be much better for him.

For now he’s hiding out in the pantry where he feels confined and safe. We’re keeping Adam away from him and giving him his space. I’m so grateful that I didn’t go into labor yesterday, and I’m so glad our old guy will still be here to welcome Tater home.

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