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vendredi 5 décembre 2008

Poor Tom

Well, I guess you've all been out of your minds with worry about Tom... No? You haven't been checking in every 10 minutes to make sure he's OK? No? Too bad - you're going to get an update all the same.



So, my poor baby (yes, I know, he's 11 and a half, but he'll always be my baby) couldn't eat anything after midnight last night. Torture. For him, of course, but for us too (the miaowing! The night-long, breakfast-time miaowing! It was pitiful).



D took him to the vet's at 9 and then came home, with instructions to phone back either just before 12 or any time after 2. He tried "just before 12", but of course the surgery was closed for lunch, so we had to wait more than 2 hours more. Torture. For us.



When D spoke to the vet, he was told that Tom was "fine". But then he added that once they'd cleaned his teeth and gums, they saw that many of his teeth were in fact damaged. And so they had to take them out.



The vet said this is relatively common and not really a big deal, but oh, my poor Tom! They had to take nearly all his upper teeth from one side. Poor baby, my poor, poor baby.



D went and picked him up at 4, and when he got him home, poor Tom (have to stop saying that - I know I'm over-reacting) was still completely out of it, totally lifeless, miserable as hell. He hid under the girls' rocking horse and wouldn't come out. His beautiful white fur is stained with blood and he's got that horrible antiseptic-y, hospital-y smell.



He didn't ask for food till nearly 10 pm (a record), and has been really lethargic and miserable all evening. Even his eyes are watering, which C said made it look like he's crying, which just about broke my heart. I know he doesn't understand what's happened - my only hope is that his poorly teeth were causing him pain and that now the pain has gone: he's an intelligent cat and I'm sure he'd understand that... Otherwise, he must just think it was some terrible punishment or something.



He isn't allowed his croquettes for a few days, only that nasty tinned muck (which usually gives him diarrhoea, so that should be fun), plus he has to have an antibiotic every day for 8 days - which will also be fun, especially is D is going up to Paris tomorrow (Friday) and not coming back till really late on Sunday. How I'm going to get a pill down Tom's throat on my own is a mystery. I just hope he's going to cooperate...



But he's basically OK, and the vet said his gums will harden in no time and he'll be back to normal before we know it. I have to admit I was terrified... but am incredibly relieved to have him home again.



This month's NaBloPoMo theme is "Thanks" - so today, I'm giving thanks to Tom, for being such a special cat, and to the vet, for making him well again.

2 commentaires:

Cha Cha a dit…

Oh, I'm so sorry. It's so hard to see your baby out of it like that, and to worry that they don't understand or think they're being punished. My heart goes out to you and to sweet Tom. Hang in there!

Magic27 a dit…

Thanks, Cha Cha... I'm just so relieved he seems to be OK again! I know it's daft to get so attached to a cat, but he really does mean so much to me...