Last night we noticed a wound near the lump on Jack's belly and I realized that the lump was probably an abscess which I knew was treatable but getting him to the vet this morning was a bit of a process. First we couldn't find him but then Candie, our cleaner, did. And also, we have no cat carrier. Once again, Candie came to the rescue and drove to her house which is not very far away, and got the cat carrier that her little doggie uses for a kennel. She even put a clean, soft blanket in it and a large piece of tape that said, "MOON" on it. She's so sweet. And then she put Jack in the carrier, knowing that neither Glen nor I would want to do that to him and no, he did not like it. Nor did he like being put in the car and driven to Monticello.
I really like the Animal Clinic there. The vets look like they spend a great deal of time outside wrangling and treating large animals like horses, cows, and perhaps rhinos. There was a tiny little fluff of a dog sitting on the receptionist's desk who was so cute that I would think about cloning if he were mine. We saw the vet within a few minutes of being there and he was gentle and sweet with our boy, as was his assistant. And Jack just sat on the table, being petted and allowing the doctor to check him out and give him a brief exam. He does have an infected bite-wound and an abscess and he was given an antibiotic injection and an injection of a painkiller/anti-inflammatory. And that was that. He will not need pills.
Phew. I was so relieved that I choked up.
A funny thing happened when he was back in his carrier and we were paying the bill. A few more people had come into the office and were in the waiting area with us and Jack was making some pretty intense noises of protest and fear, I am sure. Now this is a cat who barely ever vocalizes. He purrs for sure. But he does not talk much so when he came out with a very definite, high-pitched "NO!" I was rather shocked. I mean, he literally said the word, "NO!"
And then he repeated it. The people around us laughed. It was so obvious that he was speaking English.
Glen and I often joke (sort of) that cats can indeed understand human speech and can also speak it but of course they don't want us to know that. It works to their advantage for them to keep this ability secret. But I guess that Jack was so stressed out and then the drugs hit and he just lost his shit and said what he was thinking.
And now he's home and already feeling better, I can tell. He's moving about normally and eating. He came up to sit beside my laptop and get some love which is when I took that picture. I am so very glad.
I'm wondering who he got in a fight with. Was it Biggie Boy? I haven't seen him in weeks so they may have gotten in a fight and Jack chased him off. I suppose it could take that long for the wound to reach that state of infection. Or was it Maurice? Either way, it was definitely a fight.
I took another walk today. I realize that I am in the worst shape of my life and that is no lie. There are a million excuses not to exercise and I have used every one of them in the last year.
I am seriously going to change that. I have to.
I walked down to Lloyd Creek and took a few pictures from the bridge that goes over it.