Fruit Inspection

Okay. You’ve been warned. If you continue reading I am assuming no risk after this point (and that means you too, Jessica).

Let me just start by saying that I love animals. In my childhood we had animals running around all the time. I got my first dog, Nicky, when I was 4 and from that point on, always had to have a dog by my side. As I am sitting here now, I can name 10 dogs that I have loved and cared for. Unfortunately (or not), not one of them died from old age.

The problem at our home in Illinois was location, location, location. While my parents owned only 3 acres, the man next to us had over 80 acres, most of which were just woods and streams and partly cow pasture. You would think that is where the dogs would run and play. But you would be wrong. They chose instead to play in the neighborhood across the street. And by “across the street” I mean a busy 2 lane highway that lead directly into town.

The scene played itself out over and over again. Dog gets called to dinner. Dog doesn’t show up. Dad scans the highway in pickup truck with shovel in the back. (My poor dad!) The only variation to this scene was the year Sandy got hit in the dead of winter and must have ended up in a huge snowdrift. We didn’t find her until Spring.

The animals in my youth also included cats. And lots of them! Our first cat, Domino, arrived at our back door one day to the surprise of my parents and joy of me and my sister. We named her and fed her AND THEN found out she was pregnant. Yay…kittens!

The cats we had from that point on were always of the outdoor variety, coming and going as they pleased. The number of cats we had at any given time would vary greatly, depending on how many females we had. I can only remember one time where 2 gave birth within weeks of each other. I believe we had close to 20 cats roaming around our property after that.

But it didn’t last long. One morning my dad (again, the poor guy) got up early and took the kittens to a farm far away. He didn’t tell my sister and I what he was doing until it was over. We were so mad at him! I still remember laying in my sleeping bag that night crying (we slept in the basement during the summer because it got so hot upstairs).

So all of that just to say that I really like having animals around. And while I prefer dogs to cats, having a dog right now would be like having another child to clean up after, and I am just not up to the task at this time. Savannah’s 2 outside kitty’s are about all I can (or care to) handle until the kids are old enough to take care of themselves.

Since we live in a subdivision where the homes are all on 3+ acres, it works out well to have the cats outside at all times. Plus Jeremy is (or claims to be) allergic to them, so that was part of the deal. And now that it’s starting to cool off, it IS January you know, I haven’t been taking the kids outside as much, so we are not spending as much time with them as we were, say, before the holidays bogged us down.

Yesterday morning I went outside to feed them and Lucy was sitting there, which was strange because usually it’s her brother that is begging and scratching at the kitchen door when I don’t immediately walk out to fill up his food dish before getting breakfast for my own children. I said, “Hey, good morning Lucy. What are you doing here?” Of course, she didn’t answer, but it is not unusual for me to talk to myself around here…some days I wonder if my voice has any sound at all or if it’s just in my head. But that’s another story…

Back to Lucy. I noticed right away that her left side looked funny. Not funny, ha ha, but really wierd. I picked her up and she sort of “howled”. I felt what seemed to be a cyst. With no time to go to the vet on Friday, I thought I would give it another day and see what happened. Well, when I got to her this morning it was much worse. There was even some pus on her fur, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

So my lazy Saturday plans had been altered to include a trip to the vet. I loaded the kids and cat into the car at 9:30 to make our 9:45 appointment only to remember I was out of gas. Good grief!!! The story doesn’t get much better. The vetrinary clinic was packed full of people and big dogs. One of which was making Savannah a nervous wreck! But finally it was our turn to be seen.

The vet’s assistant asked me a variety of questions and then said she was taking Lucy to the back to drain the cyst. Blah…thank God! So the kids and I waited….and waited….and waited…and waited…(you get the idea).

There is only so much one can do with 2 youngsters in an examining room made for animals. We looked at all the posters of heartworms, ringworms, fleas, and ticks. I explained the digestive system of cats. And dental hygiene practices for dogs. Then we waited a little longer.

When our vet came back into the room with Lucy, I just stared in disbelief. She had been shaved on 3 different parts of her body. Two of which were about 6-8 inches in length. And there were 7 holes in her. Literally. Deep holes that were big enough to stick my pinky finger inside. It was disgusting. And it was then that I turned around to check on Savannah.

She was still sitting in a chair in the corner, but there was a look of horror on her face. I asked, “Are you alright?”, and she started to cry. The vet was just about to give me my instructions on how I was to care for Lucy for the next several days, so I told Savannah to stand in front of me with her head buried in my stomach as I rubbed her back. Emery was watching the whole thing. It didn’t seem to bother him one bit.

As the vet continued to clean the bleeding abscessing holes in my cat, she explained that this is actually common when cats fight. Something about their claws being small on the ends and how the infection gets up under the skin and can’t get out. By the time we know it’s there, and drain it, it leaves a hole. She was telling me that I was going to have to bring the cat in the house for a few days (yeah, right, over my husbands dead body!) to keep the wounds clean and inject with them medicine. Oh, and give her an antibiotic which the vet herself described as “terrible”. Great!

I was listening carefully and taking it all in, but when she finished the post-op instructions, I said, “I. REALLY. Don’t. Want to do this. Can’t she just stay here for the weekend?” Turns out that, yes, she will be staying with them until I call on Monday and find out how she is doing. Even then, I’m not looking forward to forcing antibiotics in her twice a day for another week. I’m not trying to be a bad pet owner. It’s just, these are supposed to be easy pets. My cats can’t even play together without one of them getting infected? This cannot be a good sign.

I don’t even remember a time when I was growing up where we had to take a pet to the clinic outside of their routine vaccinations (correct me if I’m wrong, mom). Since I’ve lived in Georgia I’ve had 4 dogs. Out of those four, 1 had seizures and 1 died tragically and suddenly from a tumor on his pancreas. The other two I found really good homes for and as far as I know, are still alive and kicking. But not under my care. I am wondering if I should be allowed to take any more animals into my home. There seems to be a pattern here…it seems to be me!