Thursday, January 29, 2015

Why We Are Done With Pets!!!!

I’ve seen a pattern developing the last couple of times we’ve had pets.  We either have them for a very short amount of time….or we have them forever.  Charlie has been irritating Jay for 8 years this past Christmas, but any of our other pets don’t seem to make it past three months.  Do you all remember Sadie? (Make sure you click the link to see the pictures. I forgot how little and cute she was and how tiny Cade was sniff sniff)  Yeah, I hardly do either.  She was with us only about three months.  Then there were Lucy and Blackie.  I think they topped out at two months….and oh what a dramatic two months it was….

One thing to remember about this story - Jay and I grew up on farms.  Unless an animal was making you money you never, ever called the vet.  In fact Charity and I were only allowed male cats while growing up because that meant Dad and my 2 uncles could neuter them themselves.  We probably had a couple of cats that did end up at the vet but it was few and far between.  I know Jay was also raised the same way.  Vets were only called in the case of stuck calves or something of the sort.  And they were usually only called after all the resources at the farm had been exhausted.  Then we got the kittens…      

Within the first week we thought the cats ate mouse poison due to the appearance of blood in their litter box.  That caused Jay to have to take them to school and lock them in the greenhouse.  It also caused him to have to call the vet about it.  I think in Jay’s world every call to the vet puts a dent in his manhood armor.  Having to call the vet about two little kittens took a chunk out of it.  The vet told us to feed them hydrogen peroxide until they puked.  We fed it to them, we never knew if they puked but somehow they survived. 

Then less than two weeks later we had another tragedy.  It was supposed to snow that Sunday evening/Monday morning so I moved the van in to the garage.  Monday morning I was loading my stuff in the van and calling “here kitty kitty” so I could catch them before I backed the van out.   Well I have a tendency to shut my van doors pretty hard and unfortunately like his name suggests, Blackie was black and I didn’t see him trying to jump in the passenger side of the van.  I slammed the van door on his head.  He fell down and started having a seizure.  About the time I’m staring open mouthed at the cat Jay opens the door and starts to walk into the garage with Camryn.  I told him I thought I had killed Blackie.  He says “Oh my Gosh” then  we all three stand there watching this cat have a seizure.  Camryn kept saying over and over is he dead?  I think he’s dead.  Is he dead? Yeah, he’s dead.

 Finally Jay told me to get Camryn out of there.  I loaded her in the van and backed out then Jay and I tried to decide what to do.  I said we couldn’t leave him there to die by himself.  I told Jay to take him to the vet.  Jay loaded up the cat,  who had all four limbs jutting out at different angles,  and did as his wife asked.  When I got back in the van Camryn said something about Blackie being dead but at least we still had Lucy.  I was traumatized all day but I was never sure if it was because of what I had done or the fact that Camryn saw her dying cat and it didn’t bother her in the slightest. 

Several hours later I got a phone call from Jay.  The vet had diagnosed Blackie as having a severe neurological trauma.  When I got home that night I thought there was no way that cat was going to make it.  He couldn’t even walk straight.  Camryn kept asking if Blackie was dead or alive.  Jay’s manhood armor got multiple dings that day….he carried in a kitten, in a kitten basket, to the vet and left with 21 days of steroids he was responsible for giving the cat.  He knew there was no way Cade and I were going to be able to doctor the cat.  He also wasn’t too happy about the dent that was left in his wallet. 

Then less than 6 weeks later tragedy struck again.  Cade called and texted me numerous times because he was at home and something was wrong with Lucy (his cat).  I was able to get ahold of Jay and he checked on it.  He called me back and confirmed something was in deed wrong with the cat.  I got home and thought maybe she had been injured somehow because  her back legs weren’t working.  We put her in the laundry room in a basket and kept her there overnight.  I told Cade if she made it through the night we’d take her to the vet the next morning. 

She somehow made it though the night even though I didn’t think she looked good.  Then Cade went out to feed Blackie and found him the same way.  It was like they couldn’t control their bodies.  When I say it was funny, I’m not referring the fact the cats were sick – that was awful.  But when Cade carried in Blackie and I saw the shape he was in I realized later I said “well add him to the basket.”  Jay was in the shower so after I picked the lock on the bathroom door (I can’t imagine why he locked us out of the bathroom that day) I told him what was going on.  We both felt bad because we were afraid it was mouse poison again. 

That morning Jay had to carry a laundry basket with two kittens into the vets office.  He  told them that if they couldn’t do anything  for them put them to sleep.  That morning Cade asked if all cats needed this much doctoring.  Jay responded with “only ours.”    Later in the day he got a call that Lucy had died but Blackie was stable.  The vet did make us feel better because he said there was no way that was mouse poison because it caused them to do “psychedelic things”.  Vets words exactly. But then we wondered what in the world did they get in to?  The only thing Jay could find was a bottle of cattle wormer that had fallen down.  We wondered if they had somehow eaten that?

Later on that evening Blackie also passed away.  I was on the phone with my sister when Jay and Cade found him.  I had been wondering all day how to handle the death thing but Cade took care of that while I was still on the phone.  He told Camryn Blackie had died.  Her response – “Again?!”  So that was a little comic relief for the evening. 

The next morning Jay and I were looking at the itemized vet bill.  They had charged us a $25 cremation fee for Lucy.  Jay asked me if he called the vet and told them we’d take Lucy back did I think  they’d credit $25 back on our card?  I wasn’t sure.  I kind of forgot about it until later in the week.  I asked if he ever called the vet.  He said he decided not to.  He thought it was probably a little weird and then the vets office would talk and laugh about him for awhile….as opposed to how they already were??? 

Then just a week and a day later Jay made an appointment with the same vet to preg check our Mini Hereford (not a common breed).  I don’t know if the vet had to get on his knees.  Later the same day he had to call the vet to pull one of Bonnie’s pigs (not a common occurrence).  This is also the same vet that Jay talked into ultrasounding Bonnie a year ago to see if she was bred (definitely abnormal for SW Mo).  It probably wouldn’t have mattered if Jay had called the office to see about getting a refund on his dead cat.  There’s a good chance we were already being laughed at.  

When I told my dad this whole story all he could say was “you mean you took them to the vet?”  When I told Jay that he asked if I had told dad that it was all my idea to take them?   There went a whole chunk of the manhood armor.  All for two free kittens.              

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