I’m anxiously waiting for a call from the vet this morning. Tuesday when I brought Tabby home after her spay surgery she was fine. She hopped right out of her carrier and walked around almost like nothing had happened.
But that was the trouble. While I was upstairs preparing her room so I could keep her confined for a few days per vet instructions, I had forgotten about the door from the laundry room to the garage I’d left open for Mr. Meow earlier that morning. He likes to sometimes go exploring out there, and after what I put him through yesterday it was the least I could do.
Let me back up a second. After I learned Tabby had been pregnant, my first reaction had been to wonder how many kittens she’d been carrying. It was only after I’d hung up with the vet that I began to wonder how far along she’d been since Dr. Singleton had said the kittens hadn’t formed bones yet. I figured that must be pretty early. Dr. Singleton was busy so one of the tech’s asked for me. She told me three weeks.
Gulp and double gulp! We’ve had her for four. That meant Mr. Meow must be the daddy! No wonder she was acting like she was towards him!
Except, I was under the impression he’d been neutered too. I was baffled how all the vet’s we’d been to through the years had missed that. Not much I could do except see to it he really was. I scheduled him to get fixed for Thursday.
Okay, now back to Tabby’s return home from the vet. So there I am upstairs getting things ready and there she was downstairs, unbeknownst to me, exploring the garage. I only remembered I’d left the door open when she stumbled back into the kitchen with old spider webs covering her head like a veil.
“Good grief! What’d you get into now?” I joked, then cleaned her off and packed her away upstairs.
But when I went to check on her later, she was cowering under the bed, shivering like crazy. She could barely get up to come see me.
I thought the pain meds had worn off and she was feeling the effects of the surgery finally. So I made her cat bed warmer by adding a couple more towels and saw her safely situated inside.
But during the night she got worse. She wasn’t eating, something she’d done right when she got home, nor was she drinking. Wednesday was more of the same, except she’d let out this horribly pathetic mew/groan/plead-for-mercy sound whenever I went to pet her.
I began to fear she’d been bitten by a spider during her jaunt in the garage. A few people in our neighborhood have had encounters with brown recluses in the past. But when I checked her for a bite, I saw nothing.
Thursday morning at 3:30 a.m. I woke up in a cold sweat certain Tabby had just passed away. I ran in to check on her and found her laying on the bathroom floor. She lifted her head and let out a pathetic squeak, and when I went to pet her she felt incredibly hot.
When I took Mr. Meow in for his appointment to be neutered at 7:30 that morning, I asked if this was normal. I explained about the garage incident, and my fears of it being a reaction to a spider bite. They said to bring her in.
So I rushed back home, got her, and brought her back. Dr. Singleton couldn’t find signs of a spider bite either, but she was concerned about the swelling on her belly near her surgery incision. She said she was going to give her some antibiotics and pain meds and also keep her at least overnight if not longer, depending on how she responded.
She also told me not to be concerned if I didn’t get a minute-by-minute update. To rely on the motto that no news was good news, but that if I didn’t hear from her by 10 a.m. to call.
It’s nearly that time now. I’m really hoping that is a good sign and Tabby’s on the mend. But I don’t think I can stand it much longer, so I just might call the second 10 o’clock rolls around!
(By the way…when I went to drop off Tabby I also picked up Mr. Meow. He really had been neutered after all and was not the daddy! Dr. Singleton had told the tech “three to four weeks.” Something got lost in translation. I probably found Tabby very shortly after the “act” with the real father.)
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