But Wait! There's More!

 It feels a little personal.

I mean, I know everyone is going through shit right now, but it still feels a little personal.

We finally got kittens again. After 6 years, we got kittens. We went back and forth on it a lot. We travel, we go to hockey games and shows. But with Covid shutting everything down we let our guards down and decided that sure, kittens would be good. By the time everything reopened they would be past the little stage and we could leave them alone here and there for sure. 

And they are so cute. And really lovely. And they love each other and play together and cuddle and the bond was instant and wonderful. And my onslaught of kitten pictures on Facebook has been met with mostly "Thank you! We needed kittens in our lives!" only a few, "Nobody needs to see that many pictures of kittens."

So yeah, it was such a good idea. A bright spot in the gloom. A positive out of 2020.

And then...

Tig fell. 

He fell off the back of a chair he had been on multiple times over the past week or so. He's our terror. He climbs and jumps and runs and does kitten pakour everywhere he goes. So falling isn't that unusual. But as soon as he hit I knew he was hurt. He yowled. Tig doesn't make loud noises. He's a squeaker. His meow is kind of pathetic. But this was the full grown cat yowl. And then he wouldn't put weight on the leg. 

So the vet calls started, me hoping that it would be a bruise or maybe a dislocated hip. 

Ended up at the Emergency vet, which Google helpfully let me know I had last been there 6 years ago...

It's a bad break. Diagonal. Near the growth plate. The vet at the emergency clinic said they maybe could repair it, or possibly amputate. He suggested calling our regular vet again to tell them what it was and see if they could do the surgery sooner than he could, which would be the next night. 

Vets are incredibly busy right now. Everyone got pets during the shutdown and Portland is a pet heavy place anyway.

So I get ahold of our vet and let them know what happened as the Emergency vet emailed copies of his x-rays over. How amazing is that really? In my lifetime that is something that didn't exist, now it exists and we take it completely for granted. When I say our vet, I meant the whole practice, so our vet gets back to me that yes, the orthopedic surgeon can do the surgery that day and just bring him back over. 

So now it's been 4 hours or so since the fall, back in the car with him once they could process him back out and back over to our vet. It was a hot day on Wednesday, but thank goodness it was hot like mid 80 not hot like 90 or 100. See, you can't sit inside and wait, you give them your pookie and then you wait in your car. And it's an emergency room so you wait your turn. Four hours. Stomach churning nerves and heat. So good.

They do the surgery, I talk to the vet, we make plans for a pickup the next day so I can get some supplies. 

We have to keep him calm. 

For two months. 

Two months.

He's already sure he's well enough to play and jump and climb. 

If he's not asleep, which is most hours of the day, but there are four or five he's not. He's ready to take on the world. 

Stoned to the gills. 

Wired and strong.

The first collar they gave us was too heavy for him. Poor guy was flopping around everywhere. 

We were trying to let him go without a collar at all while we were awake and watching, so at night he could wear one, but the rest of the time no.

Well that didn't work. He's fast. As soon as you blink he's at the stitches or the rod. 

Oh the rod. 

So the break, to fix it they wrapped his leg and the two bone shards that came off with a mesh cage. And he has a rod through his femur for stability. But since he is growing he also has an inch of rod sticking out of his hip. Which he hates. With a vengeance. If he can get to it he's chewing on it. 

So yeah, the collar. We have him in a softer lighter one right now, he still hates it. Fights it when he's awake. But it gives us a little piece of mind that he might, maybe, possibly, keep his stitches in long enough for the leg wound to heal. 

It's hard. I mean I know I sound whiny, but, guys, it's hard. 

He needs constant supervision. He hates all of it and fights every step. His brother doesn't understand why he can't play with him. And vice versa. The beautiful bonded pair we had is going to spend 2 months being told they can't play together and I am so worried they will both end up neurotic and hating each other. 

We had that. George and Gracie were not good together. Gracie was a mean bully and George was so much a better pet when she was gone. Which is awful to say, but it's so true. We didn't even know how bad it was until she was gone. We had thought that he was just a little standoffish and a loner, but no, it's that she terrorized him. 

And I am so worried that we are going to end up in a situation like that again.

And I get it, the sleep depravation is making it all seem so much harder and worse. But that's also a big part of it. Brent and I are sleeping on the bathroom floor in shifts so that someone is always with him. Because when he gets wound up in those hours that he's awake, we are terrified he's going to hurt himself. So yeah, I'm exhausted. Brent's exhausted. Tux is insulted. Tig is a mess...

It's been a year. 

And it so feels personal. 

This is why we can't have nice things....