I picked up our cat Risty this afternoon from the vet. In case you’re wondering Risty is short for Aristocat. That’s what you get when you let a 2 year old name her own pet. Thank you Walt Disney. Anyway… OH MY GOSH that poor thing looked absolutely horrible. She’s got no hair (had to cut it off because it was so matted up from living outdoors) she’s about 6lbs which is half her weight (she’s got a possible thyroid problem) and she was severely drugged up. I’ve never seen such a sad looking cat.
So the doc says to keep her indoors for a while and to lock her in a room because she’s all loopy and that way she won’t hurt herself or anyone else. Of course nothing is that simple.
We put her in my jam room and closed the door. About 30 minutes later she comes hightailing it down the hallway with our other cat chasing her. Apparently Deanna didn’t close the door all the way. So we catch the younger cat and toss her in Deanna’s room and figure we’ll let Risty mosey around the house because I don’t really feel like chasing her down. Immediately she starts clawing on the sliding glass door. She’s an outdoor cat and she wants out. But she’s still really drunk so I’m not about to let her out. So I tell Deanna to run to the store and pick up another litter box and some litter. Risty is going to live inside for the next few weeks.
So Deanna takes off and I notice the back sprinklers have been on for a while. So I crack the door a bit and Risty barrels outside like a drunk getting kicked out of a bar at 2am. She’s stumbling and fumbling and obviously doesn’t quite have it all together. However, she has it together enough to jump up to the top of the back fence. This of course causes the dogs next door to go ape. So she begins to bolt across the yard via the space between our fence and our rear neighbors fence (there’s two sets of fences built back to back with about a 2 inch gap between them). I quickly run out to grab her but she’s too fast and before I know it she’s in the next yard. The bad thing is, the fences split a little further apart there and since she’s scrawny as heck and high as a kite, she promptly falls down between the fences.
Now keep in mind that she looks like something out of a horror movie, she has no tags on, and she’s higher than a hippie on LSD at an anti-war rally. Oh, and she’s now stuck between two fences. All I can think is that I just paid $350 to save this cat from her misery and now she’s either going to get eaten by a possum, killed by a neighbor who thinks she’s a giant rat, or she’s going to starve to death between our fences. So I quickly run into the house, grab a hammer and proceed to start pulling boards off my fence to see if I can see her. I do and she’s about 75 feet down and staring at me like I’m an idiot.
So Deanna runs next door and they get a ladder and start looking down between the fences to see if they can see her. After about 20 minutes of trying to get her to go in the right direction, I put out a bowl of food and eventually she started toward me. As soon as she got to the spot where I pulled the boards out, I grabbed her.
I’m telling you, I have never felt so stressed in my life. Here I just paid all this money so my daughter wouldn’t have to see her cat in misery, and then I go and lose her. *sigh*.
The story ends happily though. She’s sitting here in my jam room behind me, relaxing on my reading chair, and I can relax now too. I’m telling you though, after my kid moves out, we’re done with animals.