Stray cat update III: Help name the newly male cat
POLL WITH MULTIPLE CHOICE AND WRITE-IN OPTIONS FOR NAMING THE CAT AT END OF POST
I finally got an appointment to have the stray cat checked, vaccinated and fixed on Wednesday. I was relieved to have the ordeal nearly over and also to have the chance to clean and rearrange her cage in a more logical manner, so she’d not hunker down in her litterbox in fear. I would put the new bed in a box I had made for her in the back, and the litterbox in the front, so I could clean it daily. This was a logical plan.
The Animal Control Officer was due to pick her up at 5ish and bring her back at 9ish, both in the PM.
It was a big day, that Wednesday.
I went to the Doctor at 11AM and she diagnosed shingles and gave me a prescription. She also took blood and ran tests and booked follow-up appointments with her and also with a specialist.
I took the first new pill at 6ish. Then I started feeling nauseous and anxious but that made sense since I have been always been against trapping this little stray cat who had appeared in my hallway months before. I was worried that she would be traumatized by a trip to the vet. When the ACO came I hid in another studio so I’d not get upset if she cried. I was getting really nauseous. As the nausea grew worse I thought, “this seems worse than nerves and worry. I wonder if I am allergic to this new prescription.” Then it hit BAD. This could not be nerves, I recall thinking in that blur of willspareyouthedetails.
At 8:30ish PM the ACO calls. She is out in the alley in the rain with my stray cat, who, BTW, is a boy as it turns out. She waits in the alley for 10 minutes till I can get to a place where I can let her in. I open the door, we put the cat in the newly cleaned and logically rearranged cage, I throw a few hundred dollar bills at her, ask her if she has a gun I can borrow (for me, not the cat) and as soon as she leaves (she would not give me her gun), I call a friend to take me to the ER. Because now I am sure this is some horrible reaction to the new anti-viral medication.
By 1 AM I am on a bed and have been examined by a Physician at the ER who has looked at my arm and asked about the needle mark …(From the earlier blood work. But of course they ask, this is Holyoke) and put me on an IV with stuff in it to stop the symptoms. They inform me that it is pure coincidence that this Norwalk Virus began after taking the first pill for the other viral thing. I go home and go to bed, after putting on gloves and giving my newly-male, yet now less-male, stray cat some fancy feast. I even put on a mask as I am now paranoid about giving this nasty Norwalk thing to the poor, sore, groggy cat.
I had this virus once before – maybe it has been lying dormant all this time? – when I was ordered to leave a nursing home a few years ago where I was visiting my mother in her last months. They were quarantining the whole facility and all visitors had to leave. I had my car already packed and so I left immediately for a planned visit with friends at the cape. The NV hit in the middle of the night and so I tried to drive home (wanting my own bed and bathroom) but only made it as far as a friend’s house in Boston, after a dozen or so emergency stops on the side of the road along the way. It’s a nasty virus.
Now I am back on my feet and bonding with my cat. Before I was back on my feet I was getting up only to feed him fancy feasts and freshen his water, but now we talk about life and he tells me stories that I can’t much understand, yet. The plan is to let him go as soon as he feels better. But the landlord (with whom I happen to rarely be in the same place at the same time) decided yesterday to completely clean out the pile of stuff in the hallway outside my door; the same stuff that the cat has been living in for the past few months.
So, the cat (who now needs a new, male, name) will be moving back in to unfamiliar stuff. So I am going to build him a catitat and declare that area off-limits to landlords and others. I am going to find a really big box and cut front and back doors and line it with towels and pillows so he will have a space all his own which is quiet and hidden and safe.
Unless of course he decides to live in my studio. I would be honored and would do flippy dances if he were to choose that. But it’s his choice. I think he has been trapped and traumatized enough. And now he cannot make more kittens. Or get rabies or whathaveyou. I think he is my pal.
Off to try to take the new med again. Crossing fingers.
BONIFÁCIO: Portuguese form of Latin Bonifatius, meaning “good destiny/fate.”
CHAUNCEY: English surname transferred to forename use, derived from a variant of the Norman French surname Chancey, originally a baronial habitational name (Chancé), meaning”good fortune.”
FAUSTO: Italian, Portuguese and Spanish form of Roman Latin Faustus, meaning “lucky.”