The Larson Family

Yesterday was zero day for Gizmo. Neutering time. The vet I spoke of in my previous blog–This Kitty’s Gone Nuts–works out of his home, and I was pretty suspicious to be honest. He lives here in North Fargo, and offered to come by the house and pick Gizmo up for a ten dollar fee. Things being tight and all, I thought I’d drop him off and save the ten bucks. But no matter what I said, this vet insisted on coming to pick him up. He even knocked off the ten bucks, and still came to pick him up. Makes me wonder if this guy didn’t want me to see where he lives for some reason.

Yesterday afternoon the vet shows up, writes me a receipt and proof of vaccination slip, and leaves with Gizmo. As he was leaving, he said he might bring Gizmo back in a few hours, depending on how he’s recovering. Well, he called me last night to tell me a few things. First, Gizmo peed all over inside his kennel after his ‘procedure’ and then rolled around in it. So he was kinda stinky. At about ten o’clock, he called again to say Gizmo was still pretty groggy from the sedative and could barely walk, so the Vet was gonna keep him overnight. He said he’d bring him back at eight-thirty in the morning.

So, seven-thirty rolls around and the doorbell rings. I vaulted out of bed, threw some clothes on and answered the door to find the Vet standing there with Gizmo in his pet carrier. He looked terrible. The Vet said he had a hard time giving Gizmo the antibiotic tablets, so he just gave him a shot instead. He then requested I return the handful of antibiotic pills he gave me yesterday since the shot would supposedly handle the chance of infection. We shook hands and he left.

I crouched down and opened the pet carrier and Gizmo wouldn’t even come out. Poor kitty was so groggy he could barely walk. I picked him up lifted him out, and that was when I realized it looked my kitty had gone through Vietnam. He must have been rubbing his face on the cage all night, trying to get out, because he rubbed a bare spot on his nose. I set him down on the floor and he wobbled his way into the dining room, hid under a futon for a bit, and then staggered his way downstairs, all the while walking with his hind legs a foot apart. He looked like a cowboy that just got off a horse after a three month cattle drive.

I haven’t even gotten a chance to check out his stitches yet, because he’s so fragile, I don’t dare mess with him. Hope everything is OK with him… he’s spent most of the day hiding in the basement. — Troy