In this picture, you can see where they shaved his leg for the IV.
If you’ve been following my Facebook posts, you already know my cat, Oz, was in the hospital for three days. He had blockage in his urethra. Luckily, it wasn’t very far up, and they were able to open it up with a laser. They kept him until he could pee on his own. His nerves were messed up from his bladder being so full, so it took three days for all that to come back.
So I brought him home yesterday. I got him at lunch and took him back to my office where he stayed. My boss’s son brought him some litter, and I fixed him up a box, and he used it twice, so I knew he was okay.
Now here’s where the adventure began. I had taken him to the vet in a laundry basket because I couldn’t find the carrier. (Hubby moves stuff all the time!) He rode in it just fine on the way. But, at the time, he was very sick and wasn’t moving much. When I took him out to the car from my office, I set him in the basket from the passenger side. If I could keep my hand on him the whole time, he wouldn’t get out of the basket. However, there was that little window of time between when I put him in the car and when I got in the car. He was able to move lightning fast and dart under my seat. Just great. How could I get him out? The fact was, I COULDN’T get him out. I coaxed and coaxed to no avail. I had no choice but to get into the car and drive. I was afraid my weight would press the seat down onto him, so all the way home, I had to rest my weight on my heels and my back against the seat back. I live 20-25 minutes away from work. That means, all that time, I was careful not to put my weight on the seat. Can you imagine how my legs felt by the time I got home???
So, at home. I put my face in front of the seat trying my best to get this cat out. He wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t pull him out because I could have hurt him. There was very little wiggle room. I tried pushing him a little from the back. All he would do was purr and “play the piano” on the carpet. (If you don’t know what that means, it’s when a cat is really happy and pulls his claws in and out. My grandma called it “playing the piano”.) I couldn’t believe this cat was enjoying being under there. It was hot, and I knew I couldn’t leave him in the car long, although it was in the garage, and it’s not too hot in there. What could I do? I talked to him, I prodded him from the back, and got so frustrated, I was crying. Nothing worked. Then I prayed. HARD. And, believe it or not, he suddenly came out. Now I know some of you aren’t believers, and that’s your choice. But for those of you who are, I’ll say to you…prayer works! Sometimes, during a crisis of faith, I wonder if God is listening, and this proves to me He does.
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