poor poor pitiful George

It’s been a crazy couple of days around here. On Monday morning I was getting ready to go to the gym (really, I was!) when I noticed George looked a little a lot wet. I knew Damon had just let him inside (he’d only been out for about half an hour) and I figured he had played in a puddle. Except he wasn’t wet with water.

It was blood.

Now George does tend to be pretty territorial and I’ve found other cat’s blood on him a few times over the years. But this time it was his own and more than I felt comfortable handling.

As soon as I got Josh on the bus to school I was on the phone with the vet, and they got us in right away. (Love them!)

I’m so glad I took him in. He had two very bad puncture wounds. One on the top of his head that went down to his skull (but luckily did not break his skull) and one all the way through one cheek to the inside of his mouth. Poor George!

I have no idea what bit him, but the theories range from another cat, to a fox, a fisher cat, a dog, a raccoon, or even a hawk. I’m leaning toward a neighborhood cat. I’ve seen quite a few around my yard lately and they’re pretty big and aggressive. Anyway.

So the darn cat is on liquid antibiotics and a painkiller, plus I have to flush his wounds twice a day. That’s just as much fun as it sounds. Not.

He follows me around even more than usual and gives me pitiful stares. The first day he just slept and I had to carry him down to his food and water and the litter box when I thought he needed it. It was pathetic.

Yesterday afternoon I noticed his cheek looked a little puffy and red and I was afraid it was getting infected so back to the vet we went. It was actually fine and I felt a little silly after but it was worth it for the peace of mind that he wasn’t going to die overnight.

He’s feeling better much now but looks just awful! And he desperately wants to go back outside. Not a chance. The little dude may never go out again…

Did I mention they had to shave the wounded areas so they could clean them?

I’m not sure if he’s mad or embarrassed about the reverse mohawk!

Then there’s the cheek:

See? Longing for the outdoors. Dumb cat. Yes, he is missing his eyebrow whiskers. They were victims of the vet’s clippers. Just like his dignity.

George, darling, you’re 10 now and can’t fight with the other kitties and win anymore. It’s time to learn to run away!

Or just take a nap.

george is mad at me

“Leave the cat alone!”

“Stop harassing the cat!”

I repeat these phrases multiple times a day.

Well, I’ve been the one annoying George the last two days. I blame DH. Heh. He mentioned it was time for more George pictures on the blog and I realized he was right. So, I followed the cat around all last evening trying to get a good shot. He didn’t cooperate at all.

I had to entice him with the camera string and here’s the best I got:

I tried again this morning but…he had a vet appointment at noon so he couldn’t go outside. That made him even more irritated. Every move I made, he followed me, and meowed at me, but if I pulled out the camera, he wouldn’t even look at me.

The outside is so close and yet so far. Sad kitty:

Then I brought out something that really caught his attention:

What’s this? Ahhh, the kitty carrier. Let’s check it out:

Okay, I admit, that’s a really crappy picture of George, and geez look at all the clutter! However, I included it because unbeknownst to me, I snapped the image just as a little boy ran through the room. Click on the photo to enlarge it and you’ll see what I mean, (and look at those cute toes!) Welcome to my world.

Uh, oh. Here we go. Off to the vet:

Poor kitty. He didn’t like his visit at all. Whenever he goes to the vet I always warn them when they take him out back for blood work or shots. He bites. He scratches. He hisses. He’s pissed. And the stress? It makes him shed and drool. It’s awful.

Anyway, his only diagnoses? Probably worms (thanks to his disgusting mice habit) and….yes, my friends, he’s fat, (also probably because of his disguising mice habit.) Not my fault at all.

You’re on a diet now George:

I know it’s depressing sweetie. Been there, done that.

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