Monday, November 01, 2004
Blogging has been light lately
For all the usual reasons: I've been busy/out of town/Josh Marshall keeps stealing all my ideas.
Also, I sort of accidentally adopted a kitten. To make a long story short, I was up in Myrtle Beach and on the way home, I spontaneously dropped by the Myrtle Beach animal shelter just to look at the critters. The place was full of beautiful animals; one, a Blue-Heeler-type dog, caught my eye. He was so sweet and sad and also just so gorgeous I couldn't believe he was in there. I managed to make a clean getaway that time, but, tempting fate, I stopped back in there late last week. I didn't see the Blue Heeler. But I did notice that one little black and white kitten, who had seemed perfectly healthy the first time I was there, was in distress. He seemed to have a bad cold - there was dried snot all over his nose and around his eyes. Dismayed to see his suffering, I went and collared a shelter volunteer.
"Let me ask you about this cat," I said, dragging her back to his cage. "Look at him!" I said indignantly. "His face is covered with snot! - Wait, the snot is gone. He must have licked it off. But you can see he's sick. What are you all doing for him?"
She said they were doing their best, they treated all the animals, but there were so many of them, and so many sick ones kept coming in, and it was hard to keep them all healthy, etc, etc. I can't remember exactly what was said, but as we talked, I realized that this particular kitten was marked for DEATH (this is not a no-kill shelter). The volunteer was telling me that they had 25 more cats waiting in the treatment room, and they would have to come out into the population, and room would have to be made . . . "Wait a minute," I said. "You're telling me that this cat might not live through the weekend?"
"I can't promise anything," she said.
"You mean you're going to have to KILL HIM to make room?"
That seemed to be pretty much how it was gonna be.
Now, I wasn't looking for a new pet. And I knew animal shelters can't keep all the strays and drop-offs alive indefinitely. But for some reason the thought that this particular kitty was going to be killed was intolerable to me. And the only way I could save him was to adopt him right then. I tried getting them to keep him through the weekend, to let me put down a deposit, and so on, but the worker told me the only I could save him was to pay the adoption fee and agree to take him home no later than the next day.
Even then, I had the suspicion I was being played like a big violin, but of course I wound up shelling out, in exchange for which the shelter people agreed not to KILL HIM before lunch time the following day. So, the next day, I went and picked him up. The shelter people gave me a cardboard cat carrier in exchange for a $5.00 "donation." I put it, with the kitty inside, in the passenger seat and drove him straight to the Murrells Inlet Veterinary Hospital. He travelled like a pro. I opened the box top a bit so I could pet him; every time I stopped petting him to shift gears, he stuck his head out like a jack-in-the-box. I kept stuffing him gently back in.
I dropped him off at the vet, thinking, OK, he has a cold, they'll give him some antibiotics and check him for worms and that'll be it. A couple of hours later, one of the veterinarians called me at the office. I can't remember exactly what she said, but it went something like, "Your cat is so cute, he's going to be fine, but he has herpes."
"Well, he didn't get it from me." Kidding! I didn't say that. What I actually said was, "HERPES? I didn't know cats could get herpes!"
"Most people don't know that," said the vet, Dr. Heather. "They always ask, 'Can I catch it?'"
"That could replace the jacuzzi/toilet seat defense," I mused. "'I swear I've been faithful, honey! I must have gotten it from the cat!'"
Dr. Heather laughed and explained that feline herpes causes upper respiratory problems in cats, but that it was "manageable." At least I think that's what she said - I was too surprised to really take it in. I fretted that my original cat, Rocky, would get feline herpes from the new guy. Dr. Heather didn't give me much comfort about that. Feline herpes can be pretty contagious, I gather, to other cats, that is. Not to humans, OK? Dr. Heather told me that she would be giving me some medicine to take home and give the kitty, and she also recommended that I go to a GNC and pick up some Lysine to help keep his herpes virus under control.
After leaving work that afternoon I went to K-Mart and ran around buying cat paraphernalia - kitten food, toys, litter box, litter, even, so help me, a "cat condo."
Then I picked the little guy up from the vet and took him home. I knew cat no. 1 was gonna HATE this - he's been the king of the house for 6 years. So before I brought the new guy in the house I locked cat no. 1, Rocky, in the spare bedroom with the 'puter. I was hoping that if he didn't actually see me bringing the new guy in the house maybe he wouldn't blame me for it. Then I carried the new guy in and installed him in the other spare bedroom, having blanketed the bed with with giant cheap-o towels I got from my K-Mart trip.
The new guy has settled right in. His new digs have got to be a huge improvement over the cold steel cage in which he had been imprisoned at the shelter. He's only been here for a few days but already he seems much better: His eyes have cleared up, and I would swear he's put on weight. When I go in his room to talk to him (and medicate him), he alternates between scarfing up food and sitting on my lap gazing at me and purring. I'll put some pics of him up soon, but trust me, he's ADORABLE.
More on the new guy later. For now, the moral of the story is, don't get anywhere near an animal shelter unless you're actively looking to adopt a pet . . .
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For all the usual reasons: I've been busy/out of town/Josh Marshall keeps stealing all my ideas.
Also, I sort of accidentally adopted a kitten. To make a long story short, I was up in Myrtle Beach and on the way home, I spontaneously dropped by the Myrtle Beach animal shelter just to look at the critters. The place was full of beautiful animals; one, a Blue-Heeler-type dog, caught my eye. He was so sweet and sad and also just so gorgeous I couldn't believe he was in there. I managed to make a clean getaway that time, but, tempting fate, I stopped back in there late last week. I didn't see the Blue Heeler. But I did notice that one little black and white kitten, who had seemed perfectly healthy the first time I was there, was in distress. He seemed to have a bad cold - there was dried snot all over his nose and around his eyes. Dismayed to see his suffering, I went and collared a shelter volunteer.
"Let me ask you about this cat," I said, dragging her back to his cage. "Look at him!" I said indignantly. "His face is covered with snot! - Wait, the snot is gone. He must have licked it off. But you can see he's sick. What are you all doing for him?"
She said they were doing their best, they treated all the animals, but there were so many of them, and so many sick ones kept coming in, and it was hard to keep them all healthy, etc, etc. I can't remember exactly what was said, but as we talked, I realized that this particular kitten was marked for DEATH (this is not a no-kill shelter). The volunteer was telling me that they had 25 more cats waiting in the treatment room, and they would have to come out into the population, and room would have to be made . . . "Wait a minute," I said. "You're telling me that this cat might not live through the weekend?"
"I can't promise anything," she said.
"You mean you're going to have to KILL HIM to make room?"
That seemed to be pretty much how it was gonna be.
Now, I wasn't looking for a new pet. And I knew animal shelters can't keep all the strays and drop-offs alive indefinitely. But for some reason the thought that this particular kitty was going to be killed was intolerable to me. And the only way I could save him was to adopt him right then. I tried getting them to keep him through the weekend, to let me put down a deposit, and so on, but the worker told me the only I could save him was to pay the adoption fee and agree to take him home no later than the next day.
Even then, I had the suspicion I was being played like a big violin, but of course I wound up shelling out, in exchange for which the shelter people agreed not to KILL HIM before lunch time the following day. So, the next day, I went and picked him up. The shelter people gave me a cardboard cat carrier in exchange for a $5.00 "donation." I put it, with the kitty inside, in the passenger seat and drove him straight to the Murrells Inlet Veterinary Hospital. He travelled like a pro. I opened the box top a bit so I could pet him; every time I stopped petting him to shift gears, he stuck his head out like a jack-in-the-box. I kept stuffing him gently back in.
I dropped him off at the vet, thinking, OK, he has a cold, they'll give him some antibiotics and check him for worms and that'll be it. A couple of hours later, one of the veterinarians called me at the office. I can't remember exactly what she said, but it went something like, "Your cat is so cute, he's going to be fine, but he has herpes."
"Well, he didn't get it from me." Kidding! I didn't say that. What I actually said was, "HERPES? I didn't know cats could get herpes!"
"Most people don't know that," said the vet, Dr. Heather. "They always ask, 'Can I catch it?'"
"That could replace the jacuzzi/toilet seat defense," I mused. "'I swear I've been faithful, honey! I must have gotten it from the cat!'"
Dr. Heather laughed and explained that feline herpes causes upper respiratory problems in cats, but that it was "manageable." At least I think that's what she said - I was too surprised to really take it in. I fretted that my original cat, Rocky, would get feline herpes from the new guy. Dr. Heather didn't give me much comfort about that. Feline herpes can be pretty contagious, I gather, to other cats, that is. Not to humans, OK? Dr. Heather told me that she would be giving me some medicine to take home and give the kitty, and she also recommended that I go to a GNC and pick up some Lysine to help keep his herpes virus under control.
After leaving work that afternoon I went to K-Mart and ran around buying cat paraphernalia - kitten food, toys, litter box, litter, even, so help me, a "cat condo."
Then I picked the little guy up from the vet and took him home. I knew cat no. 1 was gonna HATE this - he's been the king of the house for 6 years. So before I brought the new guy in the house I locked cat no. 1, Rocky, in the spare bedroom with the 'puter. I was hoping that if he didn't actually see me bringing the new guy in the house maybe he wouldn't blame me for it. Then I carried the new guy in and installed him in the other spare bedroom, having blanketed the bed with with giant cheap-o towels I got from my K-Mart trip.
The new guy has settled right in. His new digs have got to be a huge improvement over the cold steel cage in which he had been imprisoned at the shelter. He's only been here for a few days but already he seems much better: His eyes have cleared up, and I would swear he's put on weight. When I go in his room to talk to him (and medicate him), he alternates between scarfing up food and sitting on my lap gazing at me and purring. I'll put some pics of him up soon, but trust me, he's ADORABLE.
More on the new guy later. For now, the moral of the story is, don't get anywhere near an animal shelter unless you're actively looking to adopt a pet . . .
