The horror of a gruesome discovery...
Downright eerie too! Several days ago I had an uncanny sense something was a little off-kilter with Misty, my 15-yrs.-old Persian mix. It was the way her left ear seemed a tad droopy to me, and she’d wiggle it now and then. However, I dismissed my casual observation as being an overprotective cat mom. I’ve behaved this way ever since she endured two bouts of a UTI in close succession not long ago.
Even though Misty is a senior feline, she’s still a feisty climber and doesn’t look or act her age, so I intend to go the distance with her as long as feasibly possible. Everyone in my family from my grandfather on down has been a pushover for pets, and takes it extremely hard when losing one in passing.
That dismissive shrug? Still, in the back of my mind, things didn’t quite add up—especially when I’d discover Misty hunkering down in obscure places she normally didn’t frequent. This puzzling situation went on for two days. Then, my eerie feeling escalated to one of horror when I knelt down to examine the left ear which had drooped even further. Well, you couldn’t even peer into the ear canal, it had swollen so much in such a short time. I immediately thought she had an abscess.
Wouldn’t you know the veterinary hospital was overbooked, and so was their affiliate. No stranger to the 24-hrs. Mass-RI Veterinary ER, I placed a call to them, and got the go ahead to bring her in.
Besides the trepidation of packing Misty in her pet taxi, and listening to her cry in pain during the trek, we made it. Turns out she had a blood blister. Of the options presented, I elected the surgical procedure due to a better prognosis in the long run. It meant a four-hour stay before I could pick her up and take her home later in the evening.
The least likely person you’d envision as a nurse, I stepped up to the plate for my pet’s follow-up care which involved administering pain medication orally by syringe, and dispensing ear drops. Kudos to Misty for wearing her collar and taking it in stride after first galloping like a wild philly when we arrived home, and I opened the door to her taxi.
Halfway through the ordeal of enduring collar, I’ll remove it on day no. 10, and take her back to the vet to get those stitches removed. Then, there’s a non-related issue which needs monitoring.
The entire incident, not the last of more than likely pet emergencies, serves as a poignant reminder of life’s fragility. In the meantime, I cherish the strong, soulful bond I have with my adopted pet. While typing this memoir, Misty was sprawled out under my desk, purring contentedly.
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