Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Why you can't neuter your own cat.....

So as previously noted Grandpa on the Go used to be a surgeon. This meant that he was the kind of dad that went 120 miles per hour during the week and then ran around after us on the weekends (the ones he wasn't working).

When he did have a few precious moments we went to a small piece of land we shared with our aunt and uncle just outside of Narre Warren. (which for my overseas readers is like owning land 60 kms outside of Los Angles, back in the 60's before Orange became cool). It was here that we dug holes, chased the few cows that grazed peacefully and learned to ride a horse.

Grandpa decided that we had a slight cat problem (after getting rid of another litter of kittens ) and that we would neuter the only male cat present.( That was dumb enough to hang around )

image courtesy of funnymadworld.blogspot.com

"Its simple" he said, "I'm not paying some vet to do something I can teach even you to do..."

So off we headed to the shed that backed on to the main concreted yard. It was pretty dark, but had a nice high bench that we used to mix the feeds and medicines. It was battled scarred from cutting up apples and carrots and the whole place was more like a morgue than a sterile surgical room.

So we laid out the tools we were to use and he starts to measure out the anesthetic. He looks at me and says "How much do you reckon it weighs?"

In my eagerness to impress him I blurted out a number. And with that the die was cast. The cat went out quickly.

Truth be told Dad was right it's not as difficult as it looks. ( I won't describe it here). The issue is when the last stitch is in place and it's time for the patient to wake up.

As we both looked down at the limp and motionless body, the only thought going through my mind was "how do we explain this to Grandma? "

It seemed like an eternity before the cat stirred. It opened its eyes and was so surprised to see the both of us staring back at him, that it tried to jump off the bench to escape. Problem was the back half of the cat still hadn't woken up yet so it just rolled once and flopped on to the ground. (I can tell you they don't always land on their feet)

We were so relived that we just burst out laughing at the cat which was now trying to walk out of the shed with its front legs going one way and its back legs going the other.

Three hours later it was sitting upright with out the aid of a wall

Five hours later it had stopped falling over

We never did it ever again.

Dad and I still laugh about it when no-one else is around.

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