Excerpt



CHAPTER FIVE

TUSSLE WITH AN ANAL



Somethings amiss in Buttville. I could barely drag my tail upstairs this morning. I usually race Motherperson to the top step and win, but I hurt too much to stretch my legs. I go up one step at a time like an old person. I dont have enough words to describe whats wrong.

Motherperson casts her detective eye under my tail. I dont like it when she lifts my tail. Thats purr-i-vate territory. She frowns, clenches her lips. Her furrowed brow sends shivers through me.

Im hustled to that place where cats yowl and dogs whimper. The inside smells a little bit like my litter box. The pads on my paws sweat and I begin to shed. I dont like it here. I usually get stuck with a sharp thing, and get that nose stuff that flies all over my face. Docperson, with the soft hands, looks under my tail. I swing around. Id nip him, but he murmurs, almost purrs. I hear words Ive never heard before: Infected Anal Gland. Those big words sound portant, but I dont think theyre purr-etty.

As usual, I get poked with that sharp thing. I dont think its for rabies or distemper this time. I brace myself. Everything looks spotty. Next thing I know, Im in a cage house. Im in a dopey sleep-wake.

Tonys surgery went well, says Docperson to Motherperson. I drained his anal gland and Ive inserted a temporary knotted cord drain. Put this medication on the drain three times a day and pull the drain so the medication gets into the anal gland. Bring him back in about a week and Ill remove the drain. Give him this oral antibiotic, also.

Motherperson takes me home, turns me loose. I know Im at my house, but everything looks fuzzy and I cant walk straight. I mistake the bathroom for the bedroom, the living room for the kitchen. I try to go off the top step, through the rail, into the basement, but Motherperson stops me, says to TallTomcatperson, We have to confine him.

Somethings still wrong in Buttville. I flop down for a look. My furs gone and a string is growing in a loop there. Ive got to get rid of that. I hear Motherperson say, That anal drain is really going to be a pain. I dont think Tony will let me near enough to the drain to put medication on it. Ive heard the word anal before. Thats not a nice word. Whats a drain?

Motherperson and TallTomcatperson let me out of the cage house. They lift my tail and try to touch my new string-thing partI think thats the drain that Motherperson mentioned. Whoa! That hurts. I get my growler going and throw a screaming catrumworse than a person tantrum. They leave me alone. Motherperson says, I cant do this. Shed better not, whatever shes supposed to do under my tail, or shell meet my paw full of claws.

Left alone, I tug on the string-thing. I keep pulling, fit my teeth into the knots that Docperson tied. He didnt do a very good job. I pull out one knot, then another, and the whole string-thing pulls loose. Ick. I spit it out on the living room carpet.

Motherperson finds the string-thing. Not much gets by her. I should have batted it under the davenport. She picks it up between two fingers, then drops it like its poison. I wash my whiskers with my paw and ignore her. She goes to the ringing-talking-box and says, Now what am I supposed to do? Tony pulled the whole drain outit didnt even last 24 hours. Hes some kind of Houdini cat.

Me, a Houdini cat? She must know Im Siamese.

She talks some more, then listens. She says, Warm washcloth, three times a day, bring him in next week. Right.

I curl into a ball in the sun, check to make sure the string-thing is really gone. I doze. Something warmer than sun-on-my-butt jolts me awake. Motherperson holds a wet, warm thingis that a washcloth?under my tail. Hey, that feels good. I lift my bare butt skyward for full benefit. Motherperson holds me tightly with one hand, rubs under my chin with the other. Hmmmmnot bad. I purr.

One, two, three times a day she wields the warm-wet washcloth. I really dont mind. But I hate it when she and TallTomcatperson grab me, hold my feet tight. They say Medicine Time, and laugh like its funny. TallTomcatperson squeezes my jaws open and squirts my mouth full of something that tastes like Docpersons nose stuff. I gag and lick, gag and lick. When they turn me loose, it takes a good half hour for me to lick-wash the smell off my mouth. In a few hours, they squirt me again. Its not funny.

After days/nights of Washcloth Treatment and Medicine Time, my butt feels pretty good. One day Motherperson puts me in my cage house and I know were going to see Docperson. Thats the only place we go when she puts me in the car cage house, and into the car house that growls so loudly that it makes me lick my lips.

He looks good, healing nicely, says Docperson. I purr even as he lifts my tail.

Motherperson and TallTomcatperson keep up the Washcloth-Medicine Time routine for a few more days/nights. But Im sick of that washcloth. I bite it and snarl at Motherperson to let her know Im in charge of my own butt hygiene from here on

I guess thats it for the washcloth, she finally says.

TallTomcatperson is not a pushover. He keeps up Medicine Time until I almost like the stuff. One day he says, Last dose.

I sleep, dream, and twitch. Im not one bit sorry for pulling out that string-thing, either. Motherperson and TallTomcatperson ignore me. Theyve given up on Washcloth Treatment and Medicine Time.

And alls well in Buttville.