the downside of pets

My cat began limping a couple weeks ago.  I assumed it was old age until the bleeding started.  I took her to the vet, always a traumatic event for the both of us.  They barely looked at it, said it was a bug bite or something, gave her antibiotic and anti-inflammatory shots, and sent us home with a big bill.  But at least they treated her with dignity and were gentle, despite her hissing and yowling.

They wouldn't wrap the wound.  After cleaning up blood from way too many surfaces, I fashioned a type of bandage on her that held a day until it scabbed over.

 

 

Yesterday, she started bleeding again.  It had been ten days.  She saw a different vet at the same clinic.  He unceremoniously dumped her out of her carrier (WTF) and let her jump from the table to the floor.  Again, WTF??  Now she was in a foul mood.  But at least he took it seriously afterwards.  He shaved the spot to see it better, and then x-rayed her to see if the bone was affected.  He didn't seem to think it was, but still threw the cancer word around several times.

He gave me unrealistic instructions to follow, even when I tried to tell him it was impossible.  I felt like a bad mom for not being able to.  Again they wouldn't wrap the wound, and he gave me a powder to sprinkle on 3x a day.  WTF!  Try holding a cat down and turning their leg so you can sprinkle powder on the inside back leg.  It's a two person job.  And he gave her a cone to wear to keep her from licking it.  

 

 

I watched her pace the house, bumping into every wall, getting stuck on the stairs and in corners, for three hours.  It was horrible.  She was exhausted but wouldn't lie down and sleep.  In my struggle to put the fucking powder on her (yes I used a fucking towel, two in fact), her cone came off.  I finally powdered a bandage and tried to wrap the wound again.  I was also tired of following her and cleaning blood everywhere.  Once it was wrapped, I left the cone off, and she fell asleep about five steps from where she was.

She stayed there a couple hours until I lifted her onto the bed with me, on a few towels of course, in case the bandage came off.

This morning she ate her antibiotic pill in her pet pocket without any fuss.  I'm debating the whole powdering nonsense, but that much stress can't be good for her.