From November 18, 2008I got my little Face fixed on Thursday. I still feel bad.
I know it's best for him but it was horrible to take him in and see him be so scared and shaking. And to top it off his carrier is pink. I'm a horrible mom. The doc said he was very handsome and in excellent health. Jameson played nice and never made a sound. After sticking a thermometer in his pooper the doc took him by the scruff of his neck and put him in the kennel to wait his turn under the knife.
I didn't even recognize him when I picked him up. They brought him out in his carrier and his eyes were so wide and his ears were set in a weird way and he just look drugged and terrified. I got him home and set him down on the floor and opened the door to his carrier. He hung out in there a while, his head bobbing and weaving, bumping into the sides, and eventually made his way out. He kept falling down and rolling over. He would sniff my hand but wouldn't let me pet him. He was sniffing around and trying to check things out and was making his way across the kitchen floor. I was following him and he had this terrified look in his eyes as he kept falling down and rolling over and desperately trying to get across the floor and away from me. It was heartbreaking.
He made his way into his poo box but couldn't figure out how to turn around in it. He stumbled like a lush all over the house, eventually getting the strength back in his back legs. I don't think he had any idea where he was or what was going on. Luckily though, this only lasted for about an hour and a half. Then it was as if he had never had surgery that morning. He was running around, playing on his scratchy, even picked up a toy and played with it. Ate some, and just wouldn't sit still, constantly roving and checking things out.
That night he sat in the kitchen and catterwhauled. This concerned me as he is not a meower. I had given him his pain medication in some milk earlier in the evening and he had crawled up on my chest and conked out like a lead weight. I got out of bed and picked him up out of the kitchen and put him on my bed and he ran right back in the kitchen to howl. His tiny little barbaric yawp.
He's much more mellow now and much more affectionate which is slightly frightening because he was already very lovey. The moment I sit down he runs over and jumps in my lap and rubs his head on my face. He's turned into much more of a person. He tries to have conversations with me. He dragged his leopard print string on a stick over to me, as he's want to do, and jumped up on the footstool with it and lait cross the cushion and looked at me. He then reached out his paw, touched my foot, and gave a small meow. Yes my little Face, I will play with you.
He understands No and he understands Treat. What he doesn't understand is Get Off the Counter! He curls up my my face at night and talks to me. He likes hang out in the bathroom while I take a shower, and sit on the sink to watch me put my makeup on. He is always at my heels. His nuts aren't completely gone and I'm sure they'll fill back out. I now understand what it's like for my parents to watch me go into surgery.
Jameson is doing swell now. Eating, playing, being adorable. And snoozing the day away.
I know it's best for him but it was horrible to take him in and see him be so scared and shaking. And to top it off his carrier is pink. I'm a horrible mom. The doc said he was very handsome and in excellent health. Jameson played nice and never made a sound. After sticking a thermometer in his pooper the doc took him by the scruff of his neck and put him in the kennel to wait his turn under the knife.
I didn't even recognize him when I picked him up. They brought him out in his carrier and his eyes were so wide and his ears were set in a weird way and he just look drugged and terrified. I got him home and set him down on the floor and opened the door to his carrier. He hung out in there a while, his head bobbing and weaving, bumping into the sides, and eventually made his way out. He kept falling down and rolling over. He would sniff my hand but wouldn't let me pet him. He was sniffing around and trying to check things out and was making his way across the kitchen floor. I was following him and he had this terrified look in his eyes as he kept falling down and rolling over and desperately trying to get across the floor and away from me. It was heartbreaking.
He made his way into his poo box but couldn't figure out how to turn around in it. He stumbled like a lush all over the house, eventually getting the strength back in his back legs. I don't think he had any idea where he was or what was going on. Luckily though, this only lasted for about an hour and a half. Then it was as if he had never had surgery that morning. He was running around, playing on his scratchy, even picked up a toy and played with it. Ate some, and just wouldn't sit still, constantly roving and checking things out.
That night he sat in the kitchen and catterwhauled. This concerned me as he is not a meower. I had given him his pain medication in some milk earlier in the evening and he had crawled up on my chest and conked out like a lead weight. I got out of bed and picked him up out of the kitchen and put him on my bed and he ran right back in the kitchen to howl. His tiny little barbaric yawp.
He's much more mellow now and much more affectionate which is slightly frightening because he was already very lovey. The moment I sit down he runs over and jumps in my lap and rubs his head on my face. He's turned into much more of a person. He tries to have conversations with me. He dragged his leopard print string on a stick over to me, as he's want to do, and jumped up on the footstool with it and lait cross the cushion and looked at me. He then reached out his paw, touched my foot, and gave a small meow. Yes my little Face, I will play with you.
He understands No and he understands Treat. What he doesn't understand is Get Off the Counter! He curls up my my face at night and talks to me. He likes hang out in the bathroom while I take a shower, and sit on the sink to watch me put my makeup on. He is always at my heels. His nuts aren't completely gone and I'm sure they'll fill back out. I now understand what it's like for my parents to watch me go into surgery.
Jameson is doing swell now. Eating, playing, being adorable. And snoozing the day away.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment