A Cat Without a Tail

From the Melville Cat:

This morning I was hanging out in the kitchen of the Lucky 5 Star, minding my own business. Then Heather and Lucky snuck up on me with that terrible plastic box. Next thing I knew, I was at the horrible place called the vet.

Strange hands pulled me out of the box and put me on a cold metal table. (How rude.) Then I heard Heather speaking to the doctor, whose name was Clare. They were discussing my tail.

“The tail isn’t broken,” Clare said to Heather. “It’s an ABSENT.”

At least I think that’s what she said. But what the hell is an “absent”? My tail was NOT absent – it was attached to my body, like always.

I must admit though, my tail had been bothering me. It was itchy and swollen in the middle. I couldn’t stop licking it, over and over, in the same spot. My fur was falling out in that spot. And when Clare touched it, she said that something called “puss” came out.

“We’ll have to sedate him and clean it out,” Clare said. Heather looked at me sadly, gave me a few pats, and left.

I don’t want to talk about what happened at the vet after that. It was pretty horrible and I don’t remember much anyway. But eventually Clare put me back into the plastic box, and Heather came and got me.

I was glad to be home. But my tail felt funny, and I nearly tipped over when I tried to walk. Heather fussed over me and gave me milk.

Milk is one of the few things that allows me to forget about my tail.

After my milk, I was ready to get OUT. I didn’t want to take any chances on being put back into that plastic box. I began to run around the house, checking all my usual exits. They were closed off.

Prowling, looking for an exit.

A glimpse of my funny tail as I dash angrily past Heather on the couch.

Seriously, people. I’m not happy.

Please let me out. Pleeeeaaaaase.

It took a while for me to accept the fact that Heather was attempting to imprison me, yet again. I can’t believe she is even bothering. Her previous attempt to confine me inside failed miserably. I escaped within a few hours. Humans. Eish.

I spent much of the afternoon and evening wandering around the Lucky 5 Star, howling my displeasure. Heather tried feeding me tuna and giving me catnip. Whatever. My affection cannot be bought.

But now I am tired. So I surrender.

Do not be deceived. I still hate you.

But I’m too exhausted to care.

I hope my “absent” goes away soon so things can get back to normal around here.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Smokey does not have an “absent”; he has an abscess. It’s an infection from an internal wound that was probably caused during a fight with another cat. I had actually thought his tail was healed, until a day or two ago when I noticed him licking it and taking the fur off. Hence, our inevitable trip to that horrible place called the vet.

After sedating Smokey, Dr. Clare shaved his tail, drained the wound, and cleaned it. She says everything should be fine now.

Smokey is resting well and his tail no longer seems to be bothering him. He’ll get a dose of antibiotics hidden in milk for the next few days, and when his fur grows back he should be good as new. He’ll be allowed outside again tomorrow.

What a drama-cat.