...in this town, but one drives up here every Wednesday. We had planned to take our poor limp-tailed cat - a cat who, by the way, *usually enjoys listening to poems - down to the vet on Monday, but a long road trip during a heavy snowfall and through freezing rain isn't all that wise. Same story Tuesday. So this afternoon she, as usual, battled the pet carrier all the way to the temporary vet clinic in the church and she battled it again on the way home, charging the gate, her nose the battering ram. Anyhow, after 0.5 ml of Dexamethasone, my cat's tail resembles this one. That's an improvement.
*The exception being a speedy reading of E. E. Cummings' "anyone lived in a pretty how town", to which she flattens her ears in disdain.
5 comments:
We've always lived in communities where vets were few, though always wonderful, in spite of getting calls in the middle of the night (rule: your pet will always need medical attention evenings and weekends...same goes for people).
When we were in Yellowknife, it became apparent one evening that our basset hound was having a reaction to his annual rabies shot. He was shaking, throwing up, his forehead was hot...he was not well. I believed he would not make it through the night.
Fearful, I called the vet, who told me, "Give him two asperin and call me in the morning."
Seriously.
I did this, and made him a bed on the couch (which I never do). In case he needed me, still sure he wouldn't make it to the morning, I made myself a bed on the other end of the couch. We each slept, fitfully, until sometime in the middle of the night when the dog suddenly felt much better, decided he was crowded, and jumped off the couch.
The dog finished the night upstairs in my bed, while I stayed, cramped, on the couch.
* Yah, but what does she think of your paintings?
A basset hound! How cool. I can picture the couch scenario! :-)
The vets who serve this region are wonderful as well. This cat's sister succumbed to renal failure last year and, like you say, each crisis occurred on a weekend or during bad weather. The vet was always just a phone call away. The internet has certainly been great in that regard as well, with an explanation of the various treatment options just a few clicks away.
Ariel, I knew you'd ask something like that! Ok, I admit, she thinks my paintings stink. Literally. She avoids the studio. She will walk behind a painting if it's leaning against the wall, but only to save a few steps. For the most part, she turns up her nose at the whole process.
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