Isadora (the cat I adopted two weeks ago) is not feeling well.
Turns out she has a “mouth issue”. Her gums are unbelievably inflamed and there is a large amount of tartar around her back teeth. She’s having dental surgery tomorrow so please send out some good thoughts.
I knew from the second or third day that something was up. Her breath was foul, she approached her food as though it was the enemy and she licked her lips a lot.
Her vet was hoping antibiotics would help but they didn’t. They did clear the situation enough for the vet to see how bad it is.
Gum disease is rare in a cat as young as Isadora but she was on the streets for the first few months of her life and was most likely malnourished.
Isadora has been to the vet three times since she came here and she’s not happy about that. She is incredibly fast and a very good hider.
After the second visit she didn’t want to have anything to do with me. I saw her with Siren and I’m sure he was telling her how you can never trust me if I go anywhere near the closet where the carrier is kept.
My sofa and loveseat are both recliners. The underneath is raised a bit more than a standard sofa/loveseat and there is a bar that forms a rectangle under the frame.
I once dropped the remote thru the cushions while reclined and it took me two hours to retrieve it. Imagine if the remote could move.
Her last appointment was this past Monday. I had not seen her for two days but I could hear her licking her lips and rustling about under the sofa. If I moved the sofa a bit she would scurry around the end table and under the loveseat – and on and on and on.
Sunday afternoon I moved as much of the living room furniture out of the room as I could. I lined the hall with tables and odds and ends and created an obstacle course for myself and a play land fantasy for Siren.
Isadora never moved.
Bear in mind that my left ankle is weak, my knees have joint issues and my right hip is riddled with torn muscles.
Once the center of the room was clear I pulled the sofa and loveseat as far away from the walls as possible. As I slowly, carefully pulled I could hear her moving along with it, all the while licking her lips. She was deeply nested in the well created by the iron bars.
This is one clever cat. My hopes of all the ruckus igniting her curiosity or fears were dashed.
I sat for a spell hoping for a miracle. Siren ran around the newly destroyed room sniffing and I’m sure telling Isadora to just stay put.
My worst fears were confirmed. I was going to have to go in – and under.
I eased myself onto the floor grunting and groaning like an aged Olympic curler trying to relive the glory days. My ankles screamed, my knees wailed and my back just plain gave up on me.
Siren was so concerned he climbed on top of me to make sure I was OK.
As I flailed about down there my leg hit the one table that was too heavy to move. The glass of ice water that I was sure was safe toppled and fell on the power strip that I was certain was not in the way.
Electrocution would have been so nice.
By this time it was night and I noticed that the room is really, really dark when the lamps aren’t there. I would have moved one back in but the power cord was soaking in water.
When I got back from Staples I mopped up the water and replaced the power cord. Siren was asleep, exhausted from the day’s excitement. I sat and listened – the licking was coming from the far end of the loveseat. The thought of going down there again was more than I could bear.
I climbed down my hallway and got the Swiffer from the linen closet. I closed off all the other rooms except the bathroom and returned to the living room wasteland. The licking had moved to the center of the sofa. I shoved the Swiffer under as far as possible and did a mad, deranged dance with it. The scurry sounds were what a gang of bats must sound like – I assume bats travel in gangs, why else would they wear black capes.
Finally Isadora came flying out and was shocked to see how much the landscape had changed. Siren came running from the other end of the hall. They crashed into each other and landed on one of the displaced tables.
I really didn’t like that lamp.
Siren glanced at me and ran for cover. He had seen that look before. Isadora tried to return to the living room just as I made the sickening realization that I had not moved the bookcase far enough out and could not close the door all the way. I grabbed a magazine rack and blocked the opening.
We did a bizarre lion tamer sort of dance down the hallway obstacle course and into the bathroom.
It was 3 AM.
Thankfully I had already set up the bathroom with bedding and litter and food and water. I dearly wanted a shower but really – even I’m not that insane.
Isadora has been living in the bathroom since. Siren gives me wide berth. The living room is sorta, kinda reassembled.
My reward is that at 7 AM tomorrow I know where Isadora is and will only need to crawl under the toilet tank once to get her out and into the carrier.
I have come to the realization that cats like Isadora find me – or we find each other. She had been in the shelter for over a year. The last few months were spent in the PetSmart Adoption Center window – where she slept in a corner while people noticed the kittens.
I walked by, she looked up, and it’s all good.
I simply want this …
To return to this …