Auntie Judi hat!
Squashies and I went to see the V.E.T. yesterday evening. This visit was so different from the last. Last week she was so sick, she just let them do what they needed to do. This time, she had the strength to bring her feral side. Our tiny Squashies does not like to be handled. For a little kitty, she is strong, and she knows how to use the weapons that God has provided.
It is an interesting perspective between she and TK. When TK goes to the vets all the tech has to do is roll him on his back and put a hand on his belly, and as long as he can see me, he does what he needs to do. He doesn't like it, he sings a sad song to show it, but he never fights. Perhaps, because he goes so often, he has learned how futile it is to try to get away.
With Squashies, it is a completely different story. The techs, (plural,) don leather gloves. The gloves that go up to their shoulders. And as if their presences is the ding of a bell, the purr-pleas for mercy end, and the wrestling match begins.
It breaks my heart to see her struggle. Wide-eyed with fear, she executes strong, graceful body rolls, accented by screams of defiance. I worry. My being there adds no comfort to her, but I can't walk away for fear that the techs will get frustrated and use excessive force. They never have, but our little girl could try a saint's patience.
So I stay, waiting for the look of betrayal, that never comes. I feel guilty anyway.
After getting Squashies locked-down, the doctor looked in her ear and declared that the swelling was down. But, after several attempts to look more closely, it was determined that Squashies would have to be sedated to see what was going on.
So she is going in for surgery next Tuesday... I worry about the anesthesia, we believe she is around 14 years old, and it can be hard on the heart. But there is no choice.
I pray that the surgery goes smoothly.
I pray that her hearing will remain intact.
But mostly, I pray that whatever is in her ear is benign, and she will have many more adventures with us.
TK here- Me juss heard that mine furend Artymouse is still not come home from her walkabout. While we is praying, we is praying fur her too! Come home Artemisia, you are making your mommy cry!