George goes to the vet

Yes, our three year old long-haired cat, George, has lost yet another life. I don't know how many he has left, but he has apparently made it through this scrape.

We noticed a scratch above his eye Tuesday morning that over the next few days grew so swollen his eye could barely open, plus the area was looking yucky. Dennis held a moist hot compress over it on Thursday evening whilst George murmured.

Friday morning, Arthur and I put George in the cat carrier and checked him in at Banfield Pet Hospital about 9:30 am. A busy schedule of surgeries and other pets to see left George in his carrier until after 5:00 pm. He was not happy and let everyone know loudly, which is out of character for George. The vet gave him a $56 shot of antibiotic and Dennis brought him home.

That evening when we got home from shopping, George greeted Arthur and me with an insulted look like, "How could you have done this to me?" and he did look worse for the wear, with his fur looking greasy from all those hours in that plastic cage. But Saturday morning the swelling was decreasing and he looked very grateful. Evidently, the scratch had gone through his eyelid!

Today marks a week since his injury and his eye is nearly fully open again. He is full of vim and vigor, and hopefully, a little wiser now! We don't know what creature scratched him, but he does and maybe he'll try to avoid more confrontations.

Teaching cats to get along

Shasta is our silky orange and white 10 year old female cat displaying what we jokingly refer to as "hormone problems". She loves hard petting, all the while insatiably demanding, "More!" with sharp meows, interspersed with loud purring. But then, she will sometimes suddenly bite the hand that is petting her! She sticks very close to home and fancies herself the queen of the place.

When Shasta was a tiny kitten, our old Rita cat did not affectionately approve of her presence. However, Rita dealt with Shasta's intrusion by ignoring Shasta, thus remaining secure in her queen hood in our home until her death at 18.

George wandered in 2 years ago half starved as a 4-6 month old kitten with beautiful long black, white and brown fur. He has the air of an ephemeral waif who may not be long for this world. He doesn't have a lot of sense, being fearless, standing down huge dogs who wander in our back yard. He's killed many birds and mice, always presenting them to us on the porch. He wanders all around the neighborhood accepting love and attention from whoever offers it. He's already lost a couple of his nine lives, one to the squirrel who lives in our tree (we think) who sunk his teeth deep into George's flesh under one front leg. That took weeks to heal!

For these two years, Shasta has picked fights with George whenever he did anything she did not like, George's existence being the thing she dislikes most! She hisses and shoots out her paw and they go at it, chasing, caterwauling, wrestling. (Maybe it was Shasta's teeth in George's flesh!)

And for two years we've been making comments out loud about how Shasta is jealous of and threatened by George, etc., etc. Two days ago, I decided it was time Shasta learned to accept that she has a brother. So I told her that George was her brother and she needed to be nice to him. I told her several different times, while I petted and held her. Today I haven't observed any altercations. The most amazing thing, though, is they both slept on the same bed all morning! We'll see if the truce holds up.