The joy of being a cat’s mama

/ MR

I’d made an appointment with the Lort Smith Animal Hospital to take Boodie to have his horrid claws clipped. This is so … so FRAUGHT an occupation that the last time we had such an appointment the clipping didn’t happen; as the vet – a large bloke – was unable to hold Boodie (and I am utterly useless: when he’s having anything done to him, his strength is astonishing). The next time he was there it was to have most of the rest of his teeth extracted; so of course they did it while he was under.

I bought a new cat-carrier: one with wheels and a pulling handle – or not – and had put it, open, on my crochet table in the loungeroom, ready …

I picked him up in the bedroom and he was immediately wary as I carried him out. Then he spotted the cat-carrier and went absolutely ballistic. Like, BALLISTIC !

I was trying to stuff him into the carrier and he was doing his insane starfish imitation – his very, very strong insane starfish imitation – and suddenly he’d twisted half around, knocking the carrier to the floor and inserting ONE SINGLE CLAW into the back of my right hand.

Dunno about you guys, but on the backs of my hands there are two very large veins that form a Y – the two hands matching fairly well – and you can make it out under that long horizontal wrinkle. Will you be astounded if I tell you that this single claw sank into the junction of the Y (on the other hand, I mean) …?!

Well, I screamed and swore very loudly indeed, flung him down and sat down on the couch to sob – largely with fear, although it was fairly sore. After a while of doing this I realised the inanity and stopped. My fears appeared to’ve been greatly over-dramatised because there wasn’t a shitload of blood. In fact, having blotted the hand with several tissues, I was able to make a cross of bandaids over the wound …

I spent the next 20 minutes cancelling the taxi (had to go down and pay the driver, as he’s been requested and had come out from the CBD) and Boodie’s appointment, this latter being much more difficult as the LSAH takes forever to answer the phone.

And then I realised there were blobs of blood popping through the bandaids – where they were in a double layer, as well …

I crossed the corridor and asked my neighbour Michelle to give me a hand with replacing the bandaids with something larger, of which I had a collection (no idea where they came from).  She came in most willingly and we started to remove the normal-sized bandaids … and then we stopped immediately. There was blood almost gushing from underneath – kind of dark blood. She said, in a matter-of-fact kind of tone, “I think you should go to a hospital” and I agreed fervently, but hadn’t the faintest idea of how this was to be done. Happily for me in my ancient hopelessness, Michelle – roughly young enough to be my daughter – has a functioning brain: she called for an Uber and off we went to The Alfred because it’s only a few blocks away.

That was somewhere around 3:30; and I managed to persuade Michelle to leave me and go home somewhere around 6:00 but was myself home again only at 9:30. During these six hours I had bled over various areas of The Alfred’s emergency section and myself,

was re-bandaged, had my hand X-rayed in case of any bits of claw-casing’s remaining in the wound (anyone whose household contains a cat will understand this possibility when recalling cats’ claws’ castoffs so often found), was given a tetanus shot and then, as the bleeding had triumphantly regained its momentum,

re-bandaged again. All seemed well; they allowed me to go home by taxi.

I was welcomed home by a totally unaffected Boodster, who fell over sideways as is his wont upon seeing me so that I can rub his beautiful tummy. Then I ate a DELICIOUS warmed meal from my current (and forever, I hope and trust) supplier called Perfect Portion Meals, drank much mineral water and sat down for a few moments before going to bed.

Uh-oh …

It had started AGAIN. Sighh … I returned to where I’d tipped all the bandages and large bandaid thingies onto the table and started to apply them. I must’ve used about 7 or 8, sticking them madly all over the bandage and encasing/enclosing the gore. THEN I went grumpily to bed.

During the night I got up to have a wee, but as ever didn’t turn on any lights. Thank all the gods …

In the morning I awoke to find myself in an abattoir.    😦

This time I organized myself, as I was no longer in a state of fear and confusion. A pair of ambo drivers turned up without too much delay; but in the meantime I’d been kept talking, on and off, in a most pleasant manner, but a young woman who’d answered the Ambulance section phone when I dialled triple zero. Eventually she decided I could be left on my own; but about ten minutes later I was called by someone else, who carried on with the care. It’s impressive !    🙂

And back we went to The Alfred, where I was attended to by a young woman who had a secret solution, apparently: it’s a kind of soft bandage that you cut to fit a wound and press on it for a while as it works its magic – and that’s its being impregnated with something that causes the blood to congeal ! Then you cover it was one of the soft sticky plasticky bandages and a compression bandage over the hand and wrist, and Bob’s yer uncle !

I feel sure there must be a moral to this tale; but I’m not nearly as witty as someone like Hilaire Belloc –

so I can only think it has to do with remembering cats change their minds about things. Whereas Boodz was once perfectly amenable to going into a carrier, he ain’t any more.

B stands for Blood. It also stands for Boodz.
Remember that the latter makes the former ooze.

Sorry about that … [grin]

17 thoughts on “The joy of being a cat’s mama”

  1. Good grief, woman. I’m surprised you didn’t need a transfusion after all that blood loss.

    At the beginning I thought “Oh, this sounds so familiar!” I’ve lost track of all the scratches and punctures Rowdy has inflicted. And for the same reason — needle sharp claws on a cat that could fight off the entire US Army if it was trying to trim his claws. The vet gave me some gabapentin to sedate him before the next vet visit. But I can’t get a pill into him. I’ve tried popping it in whole, using a little syringe device to stick it in his mouth, mixing the capsule contents into everything he might consider eating, using a pill pocket. Nothing worked, and I’ve used up all the capsules I had just trying to find a way to administer them. Hoped I could sedate him and then trim his claws … nope

    But I’ve never bled like you did! Yikes. By the time I’ve washed the wounds with antiseptic and soapy water, air dried them, applied more antiseptic if needed before appropriate bandaids, the bleeding will have stopped. But then, Boodz opened a vein. And my hands look like yours. I do put on fingerless gloves before attempting a nail trim because he’ll bite my hands. But most of the damage is done when he suddenly launches himself from my lap. (He’s ruined 3 pairs of my favorite stretchy jeans with that stunt. And the store doesn’t sell them anymore.)

    Maybe we both need to acquire suits of armor …

    Cute little rhyme, by the way.

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  2. It’s all completely comprehensible, Colorado – blood-thinners. 😦

    If a genie dropped out of a bottle in front of me, my first wish would be to be able and allowed to STOP TAKING A BLOOD-THINNER – ANY blood-thinner.

    I actually worry that I might cut myself one day and simply bleed to death, the Rivaroxaban is so effective. And, on top of that, I’m not convinced that my “heart condition” is anywhere near as serious as requiring me to have my blood turned into water. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr !!!!

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  3. Oh my goodness…. an abattoir it was! It is fortunate that you woke and were able to function at all and not faint!

    Btw, those magic bandages are sorely in want and often used in Ukraine atm…

    Hope you have recovered my dear.

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  4. I’m basically fine, Amanda – other than that I can’t write yet. As to why in the name of any god I would need to write: it was a matter of communicating with the incredibly kind and helpful Michelle, whose phone-number I didn’t have. 🙂

    I’ve been ordered to visit my GP’s surgery on Monday to have them check the puncture-wound over. By that time, I fear the wondrous bruising around it will’ve faded; or I’d take a photo of that, too.

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  5. Oh my, that was quite an adventure! I’m glad you’ve stopped bleeding.

    Have you tried putting treats in the carrier for Boodz to investigate? Or just leaving the carrier out as a non-threatening place to check out? I know, he’s suspicious already.

    It takes two of us to trim cats’ nails, one to hold the cat up,and one to trim. I have to sing them songs while doing it. They’re pretty used to it by now. Too hard to do by just one person.

    Both cats require gabapentin before going to the vet. Sometimes they still “decline to be handled” when they get there. They used to not care, but now they do. We get gabapentin as a liquid and squirt it into their mouths with a syringe. Better than pills, for sure. Calvin gets meds 3x week, so I’ve gotten good at dosing him. Bisquee is more of an eel.

    Feel better!

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    • What a nice and helpful comment, Michele ! – I had never heard of gabapentin, but you can be sure I’ll look it up now !!!

      I’m always reading about treats; but I haven’t the faintest … Obviously this must also be looked into !

      Thanks from the heart, small clever one – much appreciated. 🙂

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  6. Holy Smokes! One day I was unable to stuff Hannah into her carrier… who knew cats could be so strong? I finally called the vet to let them know that Hannah had declined to attend her appointment that day. Obviously, Boodie totally knows the strength of cats and just out-Hannahed Hannah. I am so sorry that you lost the battle (which was exhausting, too) and were left so gravely injured; so ironic that you were injured in an attempt to handle the very claws that left you bleeding out in the night. Bad Boodie, bad!!

    Did you remember to give Boodie kitty treats when you finally got back from the hospital the second time? Cats are so self-absorbed.

    I had to take Hannah to the vet months later when she badly injured her eye, and I managed to get her into the carrier by putting it in the car in the garage with it unzipped and the car door open waiting for her. She was frightened to be carried into the garage in the dark and just climbed into her carrier for me since it now was suddenly her safe place. Not sure that will work again. I may have to toss a blanket over her in the future… Do you have visions of using chloroform on Boodie?

    I’ve never clipped Hannah’s claws, but I cut the CoalBears every two weeks. He is really good about it. Will he let me groom his long fur… no, he will not. It is a nightmare every time.

    I think that Boodie should be serving you breakfast in bed for the next two weeks after this!!

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  7. Good Lord, M-R, I’ve had claws dug into me before, but never a bloody mess like this! I’m glad you’re okay and you found someone at The Alfred to finally put the blood-letting to rest.

    Over the years, I have had cats who easily went into the carrier and others that did not. My worst was Ace, who had to be medicated before I even tried to put him in a carrier. He was the cat who was afraid of everything, so trips to the vet were horrendous for him. The other two cats would go to the vet, come back, and he would hiss and growl at them for days because of the smell.

    These days, Gibbs will easily let me clip his claws and I can get him into a carrier with only a little bit of struggle. Hoshi is a different story, especially with her claws. I put a halter or sweater on her and then wrap her in a flour sack towel. She cries and has a fit, but it’s for my own safety. Thankfully, she’s only 11 pounds (5 kilograms) and can’t get the upper hand! The things we put up with as cat moms, huh?

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    • How did The Queen do, M-J ? Of course Gibbs lets you clip his claws: he is the most gorgeous cat of all times (except possibly for a certain Harvey the Tux from Northern Ireland, whom one finds on Insta – from which I have been kicked off !! – and YouTube: I recommend a quick search, for you will melt).

      Hoshi sounds more, like, normal ! [grin] She is only light !!! (I just weighed myself for the commencement of another stern narrowing, so to speak, and found I am 78.5 kg. Sighh … Still, that’s 3½ kilos on after nearly 4 years, so it ain’t too bad.)

      Love ya, Mary-Jean …

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      • Queen Ziva was horrible when it came to nail clipping. I usually made it through the front claws with some hissing and mad cries, but I could never touch the back claws. She got a trim once a year at the vet for back claws. Hoshi is a princess compared to her, but could still be better.

        I need to lose a few pounds myself, which is always harder to do and less tasty than putting them on.

        Harvey is handsome and precious!

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    • Revolting, eh ? But if I haven’t said it already, I have discovered that part of the reason for my blood’s willingness to leave me is that I’ve been taking a daily Ubiquinol as well as the blood-thinner Rivaroxaban: a large no-no ! So no more Ubiquinol for this old fart. Hmph.

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