I got home from work the other night after midnight to find that my cat was hobbling around on three feet. I legitimately went into a panic. I called the ER vet in York and was about to drive back from Hanover until the vet lady talked me out of it.
She said if my cat seemed OK other than the limping, to wait until morning.
Easy enough, right?
Wrong. Because I was so panicked, I couldn’t sleep all night and every time Ginger moved, I turned on the light to see if she was OK. (At least I didn’t talk to her and ask her if she was OK. Oh wait. OK at least I didn’t expect her to answer.)
Way too long story short, I took her to the vet first thing and they said she has an injured shoulder. Only pain pills for now and we’ll see how she does.
The saddest part is that I had to videotape the limping because my cat is so bad with strangers that when she arrives at the vet, they dump her in a tank and gas her.
Apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, as my Dad would say.
This was Ginger’s second injury in five years — and I was just as freaked out as the first time. I tweeted far too much about my worries, and kept bothering my family and friends about the details.
While yes, my cat is my “baby,” I realize it’s slightly crazy. Though other than family, she’s been the only daily constant in my life for five years. (And my family is 18 hours away.)
Made me wonder how I’d ever be able to deal with a real child who was sick. I’d probably be 100 times more insane than a cat who can get around pretty darn well on three feet.
Any other crazy cat/dog people have these panic moments? And parents, how do you deal?