If you didn’t know this already, I am a huge sucker for animals. We have 2 large dogs (rescued) and 2 cats (also rescued). When I go to the mall, I of course, visit the pet store to take a couple dogs out of their teensy cages for a while. (Yes, I’m totally in love with an adorable labradoodle right now and have visited her twice.)
Anyway! One of our cats is a huge, 17-lb. yellow tabby (think, Garfield) and her name is Fiona ( you know, Shrek’s girlfriend had a little weight problem, too) We’ve had her outside this summer because she is so lazy that she doesn’t venture more than 10 feet from the deck. Well, yesterday morning I found a bunch of tufts of her fur in the grass and went looking for her and sure enough, she’d gotten in some kind of a fight. This does not compute! This cat does nothing all day but lay in a big blob and wait for dinner. She isn’t very sociable, just lays around like a (big) rug. We thought she was safe under the deck.
Well, after a trip to the vet and lots of fur shaved off to show more bites than I’d realized, the vet informed us that she’d probably been bitten by a COYOTE! Excuse me, I live in the largest city in the state and am in the middle of Suburbia. But yes, they could determine the size of the jaw and it most likely was that. She also was suffering a 106 degree fever (cats are normal at 101) and they put her on morphine! Eeek! Quick, grab the other cat and explain to her that when she meows at the door we will no longer allow her outside to pee. Explain to teen-aged son that he now has to go back to cleaning kitty litter every week. And explain to husband that his free cat is now in debt a couple of hundred dollars….mostly due to the THREE medications that she’s now on. Wow.