Friday afternoon I took Bonny to the vet where our fears were confirmed. After shaving the fur from her swollen face the vet discovered two sets of bite marks. The infected bites weren’t visible through all of her fur and there were no scabs to feel. The swelling was from a large abscess. Minor surgery alleviated the pressure, but now she faces uncomfortable recovery over the coming days. The poor little kitty has a drain tube sewn in place that will remain there until Tuesday or Wednesday. She is also on antibiotics. Because of the tube she has been coned. This means that every couple of hours someone (meaning me) has to remove the cone, clean the area and allow her to eat, drink and use the cat box. Her first instinct is to scratch the side of her face with her hind foot so she can’t be left alone for even a second while the area is exposed.
The picture is left small on purpose, as it’s quite graphic.
I find the vet’s insistence that she needs no pain killer very disturbing. This has got to hurt. She hasn’t purred in two days. Because I’m the one who re-cones her following her brief respites from the tortuous headwear and cleans the wounds she’s very angry with me.
We’ve no proof, but my bet is that the raccoons are to blame for the bites. Bonny will have her booster shots when the tube is removed just to be safe. There isn’t anything we can do about the raccoons other than talk with the neighbors and ask them to keep all food indoors and garbage can lids secure. Theoretically if the animals’ food source is removed the roving gang will move on. Personally, I’d opt for more drastic and permanent removal measures, but those options are not realistic or legal.
Of course caring for an invalid kitty thwarted our original plans of visiting friends up north this weekend. Because the weekend was already shot to hell, I agreed to a sleep over for both my youngest and my eldest. My middle daughter is still grounded, although a few of her privileges have been reinstated due to good behavior. So far the younger three girls have eschewed the designated play room
and have chosen to transform my once clean dining room into a giant clubhouse.
They’ve emerged for wardrobe changes, food, bathroom breaks and to watch the Muppet Show on DVD.
The two older girls have entertained themselves by watching previews of “Twilight” over and over again on-line. They heard the camera and hid.
Fingers, toes, legs and eyes are crossed in hopes that today passes quickly and uneventfully. Never thought I’d wish away a weekend.
P.S. No new knitting. I hate raccoons.