emergency… that’s you, my dear (kitten got bitten)

don’t read if you don’t have the heart.

it’s sunday. no schedule on my calendar. we were just relaxing. i was in the room. two of our three kittens were with me. for information, we have a total of six cats. Madrid, the male, black and white with amazing fur; Liverpool, female, all yellow and very easily frightened (i always call her ‘bontot’, the youngest); and Milan, female, three colors and very adventurous. If I am to tell you all about them, it will take a week, though they are only about 3 or 4 months old.

So this is about Milan, my favorite cat, as she always sleeps with me, every night. In the morning, Madrid and Liverpool were in the room. Another cat, Untung, was also there, sleeping. I was just typing, browsing with my laptop. I missed her. Then I heard it was raining. If she was upstairs–in the garden, she would have gone down. Yep, she came. Running and meowing… into the room. To me. I petted her. Her fur is not as thick and soft as her siblings, but her eyes are so captivating.

Then, back to work. Suddenly I heard my mom yelled and ran to outside the house. I smelled something is wrong. My mom was still screaming, she was shooing the dogs! There were the neighbor’s Five Big Ugly Evil Ferocious Dogs! And Milan! My love! She was lying on the street! I picked her and brought her inside, put her on a mat. She bit me. I let her. Maybe she was trying to show her effort to survive, or her last power. She was gasping. Thank God there was no… large bloody too-visible wound. There were some furs lost, patches of white skin visible. There was a drop of blood on the floor, but it was mine.

My mom came in, and most probably was kinda shocked by the blood. She was screaming. I could understand her. She has been a savior for our cats several times. This is even the second time for Milan. She saw when Milan was… attacked.. with her own eyes. Then she swore to herself she would never keep a cat again. I tried to stay in focus. I had to get her to the doctor. But this is Sunday, clinics are closed. I called my brother, maybe because of my mom. She blamed him for always adopting kittens, so this is a part of his responsibility. But he said this has already happened before, several times. I felt like crying, losing myself. But then to calm the situation, and to save Milan, I changed my clothes and told my brother to take us to a clinic that, hopefully, would be open.

In the car, I sat in the back with her. She was in the cage, still silent, her mouth was gaping, there was blood in her mouth and nose. I felt sick. But then she moved a bit. With her back showed, I saw the wound, with blood. I also saw the scar on the other side of the body, no blood. That’s good news. Very little blood on the mat. But my brother said there might be internal injury. We managed to find the clinic. Fortunately the clinic was open, though it says « Sunday by appointments ». I thought my tone–when I talked to a guy who was washing his bike–was like begging. I came in while my brother parked the car.

Then the assistant weighted her on the scale. « Only for animals, » a text says. 1.98 kg. Hmm. Then there she was, lying on the operating table. Her limbs looked misplaced, wrong. I petted her, calling her name,while he measured her temperature. Then the vet came in. « When was she bitten? » she asked I after I told her what happened. « Just now, » I replied. Do you really think I could wait and just see her look like this?? I showed her the open wound. She touched her, feeling her bones. I had a bad feeling, and it came true. The vet told me that the rib was broken, and told me to touch it, to feel the ‘gap’, the difference from the other side. « The broken rib may push her lungs, that’s why she is gasping ». It broke my heart. Further, to conclude, she said, « Let’s see, the crisis period is three days. »

Crisis period. It sounded like she was dying. Like a fifty-fifty chance. She may die. *Sigh.

The assistant cleaned the wound, cut the surrounding furs. The vet took over. She dipped the wound curet, and circled it, checking the wound. Yaiks. I could see the hole, and what’s beneath the skin. She gave me two options, just applying ointment for the medication, or stitching the wound. I realized that the decision was completely up to me. I felt being responsible for this lovely little creature, perhaps like being a parent. I chose the second. Then she put out a needle, gave her an anesthetic injection on her thigh. She reminded that the internal injury actually caused higher risk for the drug. I thought the operation would be simple, just a few stitches, considering the hole of around 2mm of diameter. But NO. Beyond my expectation, she cut the wound, making it larger… to really really check the inside part. What an ugly view to see. I saw white… the bone. She stuffed Penicillin powder with the curet (the first time I saw this). Then she stitched the flesh. The curved needle went to and fro, the black thread tied and closed the wound bit by bit as the vet was making knots with the scissors. Then she did the skin. After it’s done, she was given infusion. The vet told me that Milan’s body temperature dropped, so she must be ‘heated’ by putting yellow bulb while she’s sleeping –like chicks. She was to eat soft food, like baby food. Milan is half-conscious, surrendered, the adventurous adventurous Milan was brought down. 

She was put back to the cage. My brother came. We brought her home. On the way, even I couldn’t explain him what I saw. I was afraid that he was afraid to hear it. I saw the patient’s card, with the timing. Monday to Saturday, some vet surgeon. Sunday, emergency, two female vets. Thank God. At home, my mom was already calm. But there are things I couldn’t, or mustn’t tell my mother. Even my sister, after she found out about the incident from my mother, didn’t dare to see her.

Its 6.45pm. I went up to check on her. I decided to put her out of the cage. She was angry, but I knew she just felt pain. Again I offered her food. No response. But I poured some water, she approached the saucer and drank. I felt so relieved. I tried to put the food in her mouth, but she refused, and drank water again instead. Oh, Milan, when you get better, I will give you 50 fish, for you alone!

I checked on her every now and then. I put her out of the cage. She sleeps most of the time. Whenever I went up to check her, from afar, I saw whether she was breathing or not. Once I took Liverpool, to see whether the sister wanted to lick her, kinda empathize with her… (once they were licking each other for 4 minutes! I have the video)

My thumb is throbbing with pain. Such a small bite could cause such pain, let alone what she is suffering from. Why didn’t the vet give something to soothe the pain, painkiller??

Well, this is just the first of three days of crisis.

Day I. Please stay with me, Milan, I pray to God.


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