kickin' it James Herriot style
May. 2nd, 2006 03:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pallas_athenaI was taking out a last batch of recycling today when I ran into my neighbour Lynn, who has semi-adopted a local cat. The cat isn't a stray; a man who lives nearby bought him last Christmas as a gift for his son. Thing is, the son's at boarding school, and spends half his vacation time with his mother anyway, so most of the time no one really looks after the cat. The guy leaves some food outside now and again, but hasn't had him neutered or microchipped or bought him a collar or anything. He hasn't even given him a real name: the cat is known as Puss.
So Puss, an elegant black-and-white fellow, has discovered that my neighbour Lynn is equal parts hero and softie, and he comes to her for food and love. Despite being allergic to cats, she feeds him regularly and gives him sofa space. He's bottom of the pecking order of the neighbourhood cats, so he regularly turns up with claw marks on his nose, but he seems to appreciate humans all the more.
Last night, Puss showed up at Lynn's place crying and limping. She tried to inspect him for damage, but he wouldn't let her. Today I had a look at him on Lynn's sofa, and he had a nasty puncture wound on his underside. We knocked at the owner's door, but the owner's PA gave us the old "can't be bothered." Figuring that no one was going to do this but us, Lynn and I wrapped Puss in a towel (after a brief attempt at putting him in a box, which Puss was having none of), piled into her car and headed to the vet.
To Puss's credit, after an initial OMGWTF moment at being wrapped in a towel and put in a car, he quieted right down. He seemed to figure out that a car was basically a sofa with better scenery, and he sat on my lap in the back seat without struggling. Puss is, in general, a very chilled cat.
The vet's office was full of mature women with tiny fluffy dogs, plus one repressed male Country Life type with a yellow Lab. Lynn and I explained that we didn't have an appointment but we had a damaged cat, and they were nice enough to see us right away. Two nurses held Puss in position while the vet, a lovely yarmulke-wearing man named Peter, trimmed away excess fur and applied disinfectant. Peter explained that the wound was probably a few days old, so he couldn't suture it because of all the necrotic tissue, but he put antibiotic cream on it and assured us it would heal. Puss himself expressed grave concern about all this, especially the disinfectant, which must have stung like a bastard. To his credit, he only tried to bite the nurses holding him a couple of times. (They, being old hands at this, evaded him with ease.)
We explained the dilemma about Puss's ownership, and asked if they could give us any advice about possibly finding a new home for him. They all said that he couldn't be rehomed without his owner's permission, which is sad, because the owner isn't the most rational guy in the world. Still, I hope that one day Puss will find himself in a better situation.
Meanwhile, the vet gave him an antibiotic pill, and gave Lynn some to administer over the next few days. It was all very quick and easy, and they only charged us for the antibiotics! Let it be known that for all your animal needs, the Kynance Mews Veterinary Surgery is a very, very good place to go.
I guess the moral of the story is DON'T GIVE ANIMALS AS GIFTS, and if you've got one you can't look after, find a good shelter with a no-kill policy and let them place the poor critter in a good home. But you guys all know that already, right? Word.
So Puss, an elegant black-and-white fellow, has discovered that my neighbour Lynn is equal parts hero and softie, and he comes to her for food and love. Despite being allergic to cats, she feeds him regularly and gives him sofa space. He's bottom of the pecking order of the neighbourhood cats, so he regularly turns up with claw marks on his nose, but he seems to appreciate humans all the more.
Last night, Puss showed up at Lynn's place crying and limping. She tried to inspect him for damage, but he wouldn't let her. Today I had a look at him on Lynn's sofa, and he had a nasty puncture wound on his underside. We knocked at the owner's door, but the owner's PA gave us the old "can't be bothered." Figuring that no one was going to do this but us, Lynn and I wrapped Puss in a towel (after a brief attempt at putting him in a box, which Puss was having none of), piled into her car and headed to the vet.
To Puss's credit, after an initial OMGWTF moment at being wrapped in a towel and put in a car, he quieted right down. He seemed to figure out that a car was basically a sofa with better scenery, and he sat on my lap in the back seat without struggling. Puss is, in general, a very chilled cat.
The vet's office was full of mature women with tiny fluffy dogs, plus one repressed male Country Life type with a yellow Lab. Lynn and I explained that we didn't have an appointment but we had a damaged cat, and they were nice enough to see us right away. Two nurses held Puss in position while the vet, a lovely yarmulke-wearing man named Peter, trimmed away excess fur and applied disinfectant. Peter explained that the wound was probably a few days old, so he couldn't suture it because of all the necrotic tissue, but he put antibiotic cream on it and assured us it would heal. Puss himself expressed grave concern about all this, especially the disinfectant, which must have stung like a bastard. To his credit, he only tried to bite the nurses holding him a couple of times. (They, being old hands at this, evaded him with ease.)
We explained the dilemma about Puss's ownership, and asked if they could give us any advice about possibly finding a new home for him. They all said that he couldn't be rehomed without his owner's permission, which is sad, because the owner isn't the most rational guy in the world. Still, I hope that one day Puss will find himself in a better situation.
Meanwhile, the vet gave him an antibiotic pill, and gave Lynn some to administer over the next few days. It was all very quick and easy, and they only charged us for the antibiotics! Let it be known that for all your animal needs, the Kynance Mews Veterinary Surgery is a very, very good place to go.
I guess the moral of the story is DON'T GIVE ANIMALS AS GIFTS, and if you've got one you can't look after, find a good shelter with a no-kill policy and let them place the poor critter in a good home. But you guys all know that already, right? Word.
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no subject
on 2006-05-02 04:46 pm (UTC)And all the above only goes to prove what a truly decent and lovely human being you are...
...now go and join
no subject
on 2006-05-02 08:59 pm (UTC)I wonder if Puss' owner would even miss him if you or your friend took him in?