Would you step out of work to have your pet fixed?
This year, I had an officemate who took a leave because he was about to adopt a puppy!
Six years ago, I reported to my office on the morning my father accidentally backed into our dog with the car. Tears running down my cheeks, I logged in and sat at my cubicle. That was a horrible day.
Zorrow went under three weeks ago.
We were uncertain if his weight and age qualified him for neutering as the rules required 6-month-old cats. We did not know how old he was when we got him (check my post about our cat finding us here). What we know is that he found himself lost near our home and sheltered in our garage somewhere between the 1st and 2nd month of his life.
The veterinarians at the City Vet—kind and accommodating—let us know they would like to look at him before the procedure.
So that morning, we packed all his necessities, my sister’s old guinea pig cage (because we still do not have a carrier for this cat), and our laptops and rode to the clinic. This surgery is serious. I could have taken a leave from work. But since I knew this was a waiting game, I decided to bring work while he was inside.
Fear tangled in my chest.
I was scared he was too young. The surgeon would face complications. Scared after one look at him, they would send us home and reschedule the procedure to no-one-knows when. Scared he would run off, terrified in the hands of strangers. Most of all, I was afraid of the aftercare.
This little creature will only care about sleeping, eating, pooping, and chasing things around. But this life is already a big responsibility. The possibility of losing him on the table was on me.
Here is how the day played out:
1. The Wait
The clinic for procedures was open as early as 8:30 AM. Cats and dogs were accommodated on a first-come, first-serve basis. The lines were long, and many came early to have their pets fixed first. As a service offered to the public, the line reached more than 70 pet owners and volunteers.
Being lazy and riding on the fear of what this day had in store, we left the house by 10 AM and waited in line for two hours before our turn. Even if you could line up as late as 2 PM, we were already number sixty.
As we settled in, they asked us his weight, looked at him, and said he was big enough. Skeptic, I thought that was not a thorough evaluation of his eligibility for the procedure. But they are the experts, and we stayed in line.
Terrified, Zorrow stuck his nose in the corner of his pouch carrier—something we use at home so he stays put around the kitchen). He did not move for fear of getting caught by some monster in the area.
His paws began to sweat with all the stress. To make things worse, the sun was high in the sky, beating down on us like the summertime. We were scared he was overheating. So we fanned him with a small envelope as we waited in line.
I also had to pull out my laptop to catch up on work as dogs impatiently barked around us, and terrified cats came and left in their carriers—further terrifying our kitten.
At the strike of 12, they called out our number. We handed him over, squeezing him into the guinea pig cage. We bade him goodbye as the vets gently took him in. Even if we knew he was in good hands, we were tense as we walked out the door.
And once again, we have the wait.
2. The Ride Home
They ensure your pet wakes up from the anesthesia before they send them home. They do not need to be fully awake. They just have to regain consciousness after the procedure.
Cats and dogs were going home left and right. As I worked, I was excited to see him done but also waited in fear of any news of surgery complications or his escaping into the unknown.
The high sun began to hide behind the clouds, ready to set for the day. I finished my work day early, and no emails or tasks were outstanding. Still, his number was not called.
People who came later than us claimed their pets earlier. Only a handful were left waiting with us.
More fear and anxiety crept into my soul, more than the worry that morning.
Was he not waking up? Did something go wrong? Was he too young? Was the surgeon in charge taking longer than expected due to his age? Was he allergic to any of the medicines they gave him?
Thoughts ran in my head as I typed non-urgent reports and worked on other tasks set for next week.
When I could not push aside the fear gnawing at my heart, I began whispering these worries to my sister. In annoyance, she brushed off my fears as if I was overthinking. Maybe I was, but my thoughts were valid!
Gladly, before 5 PM, he was out. Still fast asleep in the small guinea pig cage but conscious enough to recognize we took him, the vet we inquired about aftercare, and the slam of the car door as we were on the way home.
He was battling hard to wake up, but the anesthesia was too strong, and he dozed off each minute and woke up the next to try to fight a failing battle. That is until he peed himself in the grogginess when we finally arrived home.
As a cat, he did not want to pee himself. Cats are very hygienic creatures. He tried his best to get up but to no avail, and then came the waterworks.
3. The Drunk Kitten
Laying him on his bed, after securing it with waterproof bedding in case he might pee himself again, he finally fell asleep. But for less than an hour.
They said he would sleep for about 4 hours, some pets even longer. But he was resilient and determined.
With drunk legs, he forced himself out of his bed and tried to walk around the room we kept him in. In less than 2 hours, he tried to outrun us each time we opened the door to check on him or fix items for his comfort.
And in another hour or so, he drunkenly tried to run downstairs to be with everyone else. In desperation to stop the tipsy feet, we carry him down instead. After just a few seconds in your arms, he dozes off. Once put down to sleep, he is wide awake and drunkenly walks past you like he knows better than you.
Cats are so stubborn.
When our dog got neutered, he lay down in pain and was terrified of his predicament, sleeping in the corner of a box and unsure why he couldn’t get up. Instead, this cat is indignant about all the restraints. Despite the medication, he runs around and wants to eat everything, even if they ask us not to feed him a full meal after surgery.
This drunk kitten learned his sea leg fast. He ran downstairs on his own, albeit almost falling head first. He had one goal: be downstairs where the food was, and nothing would stop him. He begged incessantly in front of his food container and refused to stay in his room, no matter how much we tried to coax him back to sleep.
4. The Aftercare
After his dinner, the night was long as he kept meowing. He refused to sleep in our room or stay on his bed. Out on a whim, he made it his mission to sleep up the attic, news stitches and all.
What we did to block the ladder was futile, and we heard him fall off not once but twice.
I tried to let him fall asleep in my arms instead, but he was obstinate. We could not do anything else but leave him be.
It was evident that he was in some kind of pain, crying out, not able to sit still. He kept lifting one of his back legs and stretching his toes like suffering a cramp.
In fear of his resilience against the drowsiness and the pain, as he jumped everywhere, I went to a nearby veterinary clinic the next day. They said they injected him with a long-lasting pain reliever and a long-lasting antibiotic. Even so, we asked if he needed an antibiotic or pain reliever that may help calm him down so he wouldn’t damage his incision.
They let me know that he was perfectly fine.
The fact that he had the energy to run around and climb everything like nothing had happened means that he was not suffering. And the tip of the City Vet to apply an anti-septic twice a day was good enough given his shots.
With that reassurance, we let him run around with an Elizabethan cone around his neck like it was adornment instead of a hindrance from everyday activity.
Still basically drugged, he learned to live indoors. Waking up at 6 am for breakfast (the same time my mom got up) and spent the morning watching birds through the windows on the 2nd floor. He spent the afternoons sleeping as everyone worked. And now, he is as normal as ever. Bigger and more adventurous!
All the stress of this procedure, of catching up on work while fear and anxiety built a tower in my heart look small knowing that he has healed well and is as spritely as ever.
Looking back, that was not a bad day—even if I needed work in the middle of the hustle and bustle.
Busyzi 