However, she's not been herself the last few days, and I'd put it down to her arthritis, but last night I noticed the right side of her muzzle swollen, so it looks like she has a tooth abcess. She doesnt have many teeth, as she had most of them removed about 4yrs ago when the same thing happened.
I rang the vet and explained and have to take her in this afternoon at 2.15pm. I'm not quite sure how they'll go about treating the abcess and bad tooth, because last week they found she had a heart murmer, so I would think general aneasthetic is a no-no, but with medical science as it is these days, maybe they can just spray or inject the site and remove the tooth.
Medical treatment for humans and animals has advanced so much in recent years. Just a few years ago dogs with arthritis would be given pain killers, some with very nasty side effects, but these days they treat them with medication that helps their bodies heal and repair themselves. Amazing.
Most of my pets are old timers, besides Midge I have 4 cats who are all in their teens. Mother cat Sophie was found under a sink unit as a kitten when the 'owners' had done a moonlight and left about 40 cats of varying ages behind. A neighbour alerted the RSPCA who came and collected them all, but somehow missed Sophie.
A friend of mine heard a kitten meowing and got her husband to 'break in' and rescue it. Which meant he had to practically dismantle the sink unit cupboard to reach her. They then brought her over to me. I'd already got about 10 cats back then as I had a small holding and they were all employed as rat catchers.
Sophie was an adorable kitten. I kept her indoors until it was time for her to be speyed, but the night beforehand my late husband accidentally let her out. Needless to say the randy old tom from the farm next door soon spotted her and they mated. So poor Sophie was a child bride. I then decided to let her have her kittens then have her speyed afterwards.
A few months later Sophie jumped onto my lap and was in quite a state, frightened and trembling. She then gave birth to the first kitten (a female we called Tootsie) on my lap. Once the little thing slithered out in its prepacked pouch she grabbed it and ran underneath the tv in the corner.
We hurriedly prepared a cardboard box with newspaper and blanket and placed her and the now unwrapped kitty inside. She had two more kittens, both toms. One pure black we named Soots (yes very original) and one white with black ears and tail who we called Spot. It was such fun watching them grow up and Sophie teaching them all the cat things they had to learn.
Once their eyes were open they were like little tigers if we went near them, spitting, arching their backs with their little tails fluffed out like loo brushes and thrashing from side to side. After a few days of patiently trying to stroke them, with lacerated hands, they soon became as tame as their mother.
Once they were old enough Sophie decided it was time for them to venture outside. She led them through the kitchen, out through the porch, up the steps to the garden and sat at the top while they took in the big wide world with their equally big wide eyes. This soon became boring, they started fidgeting so Sophie ran like the wind across the lawn and sped up a telegraph pole nearby that I'd covered in chicken wire with the intention of planting a clematis up it at some point but never got round to it.
Up the pole she flew and clinging on with all claws deeply embedded in the wood she looked back at her kittens as if to say 'well come on then'. They looked at each other then Tootsie and Soots dashed after her leaping up at the pole and clinging on just below her. All three peered back at Spot, edging him on until finally he plucked up courage and ran full pelt across the lawn, his little legs almost a blur as he ran as fast as they would carry him. Almost to the pole he gathered even more speed, and instead of leaping up after his siblings, he hit the pole head on and dropped back onto the lawn dazed.
He's never been 'all there' that one. My husband used to say he was starved of oxygen before he was born, and I'm pretty sure he could have been right. Poor Spot. He's grown into a beautiful loving cat though. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. As a kitten he was downright ugly. We both agreed that we'd never seen such an ugly kitten. He looks almost oriental now he's older, little yellow slitty eyes peering at you. So he has the nickname of Hirohito occasionly and I often bow to him and say 'aaah soooo', but he just looks disdainfully at me as if I've lost the plot.
His siblings, Soots and Tootsie are normal thank goodness. Imagine having a brood of mentally challenged cats. Oh my!
They're all 13yrs old now. So getting on a bit I suppose.
The other cat I have is an indoor cat, Lily. She's a long haired Calico cat. Now here's another interesting story.
When I moved to Norfolk in 2005 just after my husband died, with the intention of earning more money as wages in Cornwall are dismal, I was on my way to the doctors surgery one wet and windy night. The rain was torrential and the wind almost gale force. A real dirty night. Driving down an avenue between thick woods the headlights picked up a box at the side of the road with 2 glinting beads. I wondered whatever it was, so slowed down and stopped to take a better look. Something I wouldn't normally do on such a night, especially near woods, but something made me want to investigate further. As I got out of the car I had to hold onto the door as the wind almost ripped it off it's hinges, and the box tumbled further into the road. I ran after it and grabbed it and fought against the wind back to the side of the road, and found it was wrapped practically all over with brown parcel tape, and the two little glowing beads were infact, two little eyes peering up at me like luminous saucers. Full of fear, but the little face so drenched with rain you could see more skin than fur.
I put the box on the back seat, turned the car around, and drove back home.
Once indoors I put the box on the worktop in the kitchen and after hunting for a pair of scissors starting carefully cutting away at the tape. Whoooooooosh! As soon as the opening was big enough the two little luminious eyes got even bigger and the soggy little kitten shot out and ran behind the armchair in the dining room.
What was left in the box wasn't a pretty sight, and my heart broke at what I saw. Left inside were 3 little kittens. One the mirror image of luminous eyes, one tortoiseshell and one tortoiseshell and white. All dead. One still slightly warm the other two stone cold. I stood looking at them for what seemed hours, tears running down my cheeks, sobbing loudly. How could anyone do this to such innocent little creatures?
After I'd pulled myself together, I put the box outside in the boot of the car, came back in and tried to catch luminous eyes. It wasn't easy. She's hidden up under the armchair and after half an hour of poking around I managed to grab her and put her into a cat carrier.
I took her and the box of dead siblings to my vet straight away and he kindly disposed of their little bodies. Luminous eyes was like a tigress. Biting and spitting and every single hair on her little body stood on end as she was so petrified.
Grasping her as only a vet can, he gave her a thorough examination. She'd got hyperthermia, worms and was in a sorry state, but not beyond saving. So after an injection or two and handing me some worming tablets, the vet helped me put her back into the carrier to bring her home.
She was tiny, and the vet and myself both agreed she was no more than 5 or 6 weeks old. Just weaned probably. But my she was a beauty.
Once home I closed the doors to the dining room, which was inbetween the lounge and the kitchen, making it a 'safe place' for her. That house was very odd, you walked through one room to reach another, both upstairs and downstairs. No passage or hallway. But this strange layout made it ideal for keeping the kitten safe.
I left out some kitten food and biscuit and milk, but she didnt touch it while I was in the room. I peered through the glass door from the lounge and caught her creeping out once or twice to grab a mouthful of food or a few licks of milk, but always turning her head to see if there was any danger that could harm her. She was totally wild.
As I sat and watched her from a distance, I thought of ways of taming her and getting her confidence. There was no way I could catch her, and I wouldnt want to stress her out by chasing her round and then grabbing her. So I bought a cat toy. A funny little bird on elastic attached to a long green thin plastic stick.
I sat for hours dangling this damn bird infront of the armchair trying to coax her out. Eventually after a week or so, she would stick a little paw out and try to grab it. Then an arm. Next her head and shoulders, until she was completely out from under the chair and visible. One luminous eye on the bird one on me. It took a good two months or more to even touch her. I would hold the stick closer to the bird each day, until she knew I wasn't going to hurt her. Eventually she let me stroke her silky fur. Within another month she would jump up on the chair next to me and sit on the arm, but wouldnt let me touch her, if I tried she would leap off and hide away.
It must have taken a good 5 or 6mths until one day she decided enough was enough and this huge two legged thing wasn't going to hurt her and she jumped onto my lap.
After a few evenings of having her on my lap I took her to the vet for vaccination. I hoped this wouldnt put all the hard work of gaining her confidence and trust back but it didnt.
And now 3yrs on, she's as tame as all my other cats. But if someone visits she runs away and hides under the bed upstairs and won't come out until they've gone.
She is definately the most beautiful cat I own, and I love her dearly, it was so rewarding to gain her trust and love. I love all my pets equally, but Lily is my special girl.
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