Saturday, November 24, 2012

Tryptophan Trance

Turkey hormones nab another unsuspecting victim. Incidentally, Gunnar is not allowed on the couch but because a futon is two inches shorter, he feels that falls into the "dog bed" category. Therefore, the futon has been covered with an old blanket, as the White Husky is shedding like nobody's business. Way to be strong on that "no furniture" rule, parents. Way to stand your ground....

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Day 15

I'm still being held captive in the house in a small cage. Send help. I'm bored.

My captors seem to enjoy my current situation and I see no end in sight.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Staking His Claim

I wonder if they'll forget that I'm supposed to move back outside in a few weeks?

(Thanks to the Cone of Shame, Puddin' still has all of his sutures in place. Whew.)


Monday, November 12, 2012

Lap Dog

Milking the attention after the doctor stitched him up again. I hope Puddin knows he is moving out in a few weeks.


Sunday, November 11, 2012

Puss in Boots and a Cone of Shame

The concept of placing Puddin's kennel in front of a TV playing nonstop Disney movies in order to allow him to heal, was a pedantic notion at best.  Interaction is actually required on our part to administer medicine and clean--gulp--litter boxes.  And, once he started popping stitches like a hair band pops guitar strings, our level of interaction with the cat escalated.
 
P-diddly, aka Puddy, aka Puff Daddy, aka Puddin H., has been one easy going cat with the exception that he doesn't realize he is injured.  He seems to feel no pain even when his meds have worn off.  When Puddy is sober, he is extremely affectionate and purrs, even if I'm picking cat litter out of his wound--which, again, has been widened considerably with only the top and bottom (and the penrose drain) intact.
 
I promise there are no photos of his wound below, but let's just say the veterinarian--or "Puddin's pediatrician," as Mr. H calls her--couldn't believe by the looks of it, this cat hadn't disemboweled himself.  He might yet before the night is out. Every time I check on him his wound looks more open, with only the top and bottom in place.  Wait...I take that back...the very bottom is now popped open too, so he'll probably be drinking his water through the drain like a straw when I see him in the morning.
 
Our animal expert, Seneca, firmly stated that Puddin' should have come home with an e-collar, but didn't.  We picked him up on Saturday morning to bring him home and by late that evening it was apparent he had lost one or two stitches.  Assuming he had pulled them out with is mouth or something, we needed to either create a makeshift e-collar or find one that was used on the Chihuahuas and hope it wasn't too big for an 8-month old kitten.
 
Our first attempt was a more humane wrap created with a turquoise dish towel and neon pink vet wrap.  Though jaunty, it only took P-diddly 20 seconds to remove it.
 
 
 
 
We gave that idea up and put the cat back in the kennel, hoping he wouldn't pull any more stitches before Monday morning which will yield a surprise visit to the vet (to stitch the very same area).  Skeptical, I went to the basement and found Loki's old Cone of Shame and brought it upstairs, wondering how the plastic hat would ever go over well with Puddin' and how he'd deal with being in a tiny kennel with a huge satellite on his head.
 
He was super pleased at first (not) but calmed down in less than ten minutes.  He really has been a gem to take care of, aside from needing another doctor visit to replace stitches.  He's been easier to tend to than any ailing animal we've ever dealt with (sorry, Gunnar, even you were difficult in the Cone).  In fact, he's been more amiable and adorable while injured than most animals are when they're healthy.
 
 
The Cone of Shame



Puddin, on one of his occasional breaks out of solitary confinement.
Clearly, he looks anxious. This photo cleverly hides a horrific injury,
starting at the left side of the base of his tail, ripping through his hamstring,
ending at the inside edge of his kneecap.



 
 

Rule #56: Never get too attached to the barn cats....oops
 
 
 

Saturday, November 10, 2012

Bringing Home Baby

Well, Puddin has had a successful surgery and will be on bedrest in the basement of the house for a couple of weeks. He has a drain in his left leg and lots of stitches.

Apparently he captured the hearts of the medical staff at the vet clinic. They all admit Puddin is way friendlier than the average cat and was also pleasant to deal with after surgery. At least we raised one right.

We're going to put him in the back room in the basement so the dogs don't go too crazy. He has to stay in the kennel continuously for the next 7 days so I'll just sit a TV in front of it with a constant stream of Disney movies for him to watch.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Happy Birthday Daddy!

Search Efforts Have Ceased

Because he just showed up!

Puddin' walked  up to me very gingerly and slowly this morning as I was putting wood into the burner. He moves as though he's trying to prove to an officer that he's sober, and let me just say that Puddin's hiney region smells like a broken sewer main. I've never smelled something like that on a live creature before!

I called for Mr. H in the house who tossed the dogs into the front yard after their breakfast and came to the back of the house to see what I had found. Poor Puddin' can't even sit down-- he's what you'd call "butt hurt"....literally... I know, bad pun.

I don't think he's out of the woods with regard to survival. He looks a tad green around the gills, but he was purring and trying to interact with us when he slowly staggered up the hill.

We talked about horrible possibilities for P-diddy's predicament and I have a feeling the whole chicken that USED to be on our compost pile (since Sunday) had something to do with his disappearance and his current state. 

He eats just like his father: just the meat, no vegetables (the carrots and celery are still on the pile).







Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Search but no Seizure

A lunchtime search for P-diddly (Puddin) with the White Husky yielded search, but no rescue. I even gave him incentive: I told Gunnar he could hold the kitten in his mouth gently, for a bit, if he could find it.

No luck.


Waiting for His Brother to Return





We haven't seen Mr. Puddin' for almost two whole days. Since May, the longest we've ever gone without seeing all three killing machines is twelve hours--or one mealtime.

Have you seen this kitten? If so, please ring the Black Squirrel Ranch.....and incidentally, if you "mistakenly" put him in your vehicle and took him home with you after Squirrel Fest, please return him. When we untie you, no questions asked--promise.







Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Squirrel Fest?

More like Barn Kitten Fest!

We saw no squirrels on Saturday but still had a lot of fun and all of the animals enjoyed our guests. I guess the animals are trying to tell us they love being part of a petting zoo...they'd better buy their own groceries then!

(The birthday boy does not like his photo publicized, but believe me, Mr. H was at his own party)


 
 
 
 
Interracial Relations