Wilson has always been a hero to me, since the first days we adopted him in Telluride, CO. Back then, it was because he was such a tough guy for loving the outdoors, but having to deal with Coyotes, Raccoons, Porcupines, Bears, and Mountain Lions. Our condo building backed right up to the National Forest, so there was literally no buffer between our domain and theirs.
He was allowed to be outside during the day, but we locked him in at night to protect him. He hated it, but I always thought deep down that he knew he wasn't being punished, but that our protection of him was about our love for him.
Every now and then, he would just barely make it back into our condo through his cat door (accessed by climbing a short wood pile place in front of a wooden door in our sun-room), with a coyote on his heels. The coyote would sometimes even stick his snout in the hole of the cat door. In my cartoon mind, it was cute. In reality, however, we know that Wilson risked his life daily. Yet, his freedom, in my mind at least, was equally important as his safety.
Safe but not free is just another name for a prison.
Moving to Fort Collins, we found a place that was a full mile from the National Forest, so the larger predators were less likely to visit our neighborhood. Less likely, still means possible. And, coyotes are everywhere, and not really all that bothered by living in a field next to a subdivision. Add to that some prevalent foxes, as well as many more competing cats, and Wilson found himself in bloody fights on a fairly regular basis.
Over the years, we have become fairly adept at feline triage. Betadyne and anti-biotic creams have always been at hand, ready to clean up our boy when he returns from battle. At the vet, he is known as a scrapper, and everyone who has had the occasion to inspect his head and body remarks at the scars left from years of battles.
His scars tend to be on his face and head. In cat behavior, this is a sign of the proverbial Alpha Cat. He never backs down from a fight. He is truly the Boss Cat. Cats that invade his territory know they should never come back, and I am pretty sure that there are a few Fox and Raccoons that have gotten the same message. We hope that he has never had to teach a Coyote that lesson!
Because of all of these battles, he has susceptibility to diseases. And, one of these diseases is Feline Herpes. It manifests itself as a watery eye, but to the cat, it is a painful burning sensation. We treat it with an ointment we call "goop", and Wilson hates it. We sometimes have to apply it multiple times per day for days at a time.
This past week, Wilson showed signs of being in a major fight. We had returned from a 5-day out-of-town trip, and he had some scabs on his body. It's a bad sign when he has scabs below is neck. It either means he was trying to get away from something (which is unusual for our Boss Cat), or that he was in an extended entanglement. Picture two cats screaming and hissing as one big ball of fur.
About a week after being at home, some more obvious signs of a major fight appeared. He suddenly had a bloody ear one afternoon. Apparently, his ear was punctured, and while it scabbed over under the fur, it got infected and ruptured. It was our first sign his fight while we were gone was serious.
Then, a week later, we noticed that is left front paw had one claw (pointer finger, if you will) was bent 45-degrees sideways. It looked a little bloody too, but we couldn't figure out what had caused this. It looked as though he had dislocated a finger. I imagined he got his claw caught on the couch while jumping down, and it twisted it around.
His eye had been watering for about 4-5 days at that point, and he wasn't responding to the ointment we had been applying, so we decided the finger and eye were enough to warrant a visit to the vet.
Wilson hates being taken to the vet, but he is the best patient. He actually rides in my lap when we drive there, or sits patiently on the passenger seat. I have a harness and leash for him, but I tend to only put it on right before we go into the vet office. I am not so worried about him running away outside (although I do have irrational fears about this), but more to keep a hold of him should he freak out a dog or six inside the vet office.
Once inside the office, Wilson generally starts getting scared. I can tell the most when he starts shaking, which is just heartbreaking. I can only offer him verbal reassurances, and giving him his favorite head, neck, and lower back scratches. Sometimes he shows signs of being soothed, other times it only calms him momentarily. But, I still do it anyways.
When we go into the examination room, the first thing he wants to do is hide under the chairs. He will never be mean, but if you give him 3 seconds unattended, he will be under the chair by the 4th second. However, once the vet or technician starts the exam, he is SO good about cooperating.
His least favorite part of the exam is having his temperature taken. Of course it has to be taken anally, which I believe is just so wrong. I hold onto him, and he bury's his head between my arm and chest. I think he is just humiliated by the procedure, but he doesn't yell, claw, or bite. He just wants to hide his face until it is over.
In this exam, we found that his claw was actually broken sideways, and there was an infection developing underneath. It required complete removal of his claw. They had to do this in a back room, and all reports from the vet and technician were that he completely cooperated AND, he could even be heard purring in little grunts. I know and believe this to be him acknowledging that he is being taken care of.
His eye, however, did not turn out to be a good situation. The exam requires him to get a topical liquid that numbs his eye, and then another solution that shows up in black light. We could see the section of his cornea that had been damaged, and was now leaving an ulcer of about the size of a Q-TIP.
We were given some ointment, pain reliever, and a solution to soak his paw. The ointment wasn't really anything different for him - just a different medicine that didn't have steroids. The paw in the solution, however, required us to hold his paw in liquid for 5 minutes at a time. Yet, despite his initial protests, I know he understood that we were helping heal his paw.
The suckiest part, was the fact that we had to go back the next day to re-examine his eye. Wilson hates being grabbed out of a nap and thrown in the car for a trip to the vet. Two days in a row, though, is truly an insult to his dignity. Yet, he didn't fight it. He did his normal yowling at around halfway to the vet, but nothing really extraordinary there.
The exam was similar, and luckily, Wilson was given a repreieve on the paw treatment. He had shown enough healing to stop the soaking, which probably made me more thrilled than Wilson. On the eye, however, it was recommended that he come in AGAIN, the next day. I begged for something else, and our vet was nice enough to offer making a house call.
The next morning, however, Wilson bolted straight out of bed to the yard. And, my attempts to coax him inside resulted in him hiding in the neighbor's shed. I was forced to bring him in again that afternoon. To accomplish this, Deb had to wait until he was finally hungry and thirsty enough to come back in the house, and then locked him inside - with doors to his favorite indoor hiding spots locked as well.
The third trip to the vet was similar to the first two. Wilson assumed his forlorn spot on my lap for the drive there, and more than ever, he was shaking when we got to the vet office. This time, the news was a bit scarier. There was progress on the healing of his cornea ulcer, but there was a brown spot in the center that was not going away. She tried to swab it with a Q-Tip, but whatever this was would not rub off. It appeared to be under the layer of his cornea.
Unfortunately, this resulted in a recommendation of yet a FOURTH visit to a specialist the next day. We were beyond exasperation, but knew that it had to be. Wilson's health and vision were far more important.
That night, like the three before them, I noticed that Wilson had changed his sleeping pattern. Instead of sleeping on our bed at our feet, he would climb up on my chest, and eventually roll into a position in my right arm. He has this anti-smothering attitude most of the time, so if you get a chance to hug him with your face near his, it's generally pretty temporary. And dangerous. He'll make a swat at you if he feels you are being obnoxious with love.
This was different. I felt like despite our moments of disagreement while going to and from the vet, deep down he knew I was taking care of him. And, when it came to sleeping peacefully, he still trusted me fully. At night. When I was in bed sleeping too.
So, on day 4, Wilson was on guard for being taken again, straight out of bed. He waited 1.2 seconds for me to lift my head from the pillow, and bam - he was out the door. He hung out peacefully on his outdoor cat condo all morning. I had to run an errand before his appointment, so Deb sneakily locked him inside again when he came in for food after noon.
This time, however, he really fought me on the way to the car. He clawed up my arms, and I'll bet he would have gone for my face if given the chance. Wilson had completely had it with being taken to the vet. What he didn't know was that this place was even farther away (Loveland) with a whole new set of vets and technicians.
Yet, once we got to that office, he was again the exemplary patient. He allowed the new vet to poke and prod him, and to look deeply at his over-inspected eye. I know that he was in pain, but like the good protector that he is, he never lets his pain show.
I had read up about his condition the night before, and called the prognosis before we got to the doctor. It was an Corneal Sequestrum.
http://www.petmd.com/cat/conditions/eyes/c_ct_corneal_sequestrum
The doctor explained how the whole thing is related to his feline herpes, and that without addressing the herpes (both acutely and long term), it was likely that the sequestrum would likely be recurring - and increasing the chance of blindness, with each recurrence. Scary stuff.
To treat the current condition, they would use a diamond burr grinder to literally grind the brown stuff off his cornea, and simultaneously grind down the edges of the ulcer to make the surface of his eye smooth again. It sounds nasty, but it's really a simple procedure.
Once again, Wilson was taken from my protective arms, and once again he was an exemplary patient. He didn't yell, claw, or protest in any way. I am so amazed at how this "big cat" is really the best little boy for all of the vets and technicians we take him to have the most scary and undignified things done to him. All I could think of the entire week is just how proud of him I am.
After the procedure, Wilson's eye looked more squinty shut than ever. A whole new slew of medicines were added to the regimen, further making me feel like we had to disrupt his peaceful days. At some intervals, he now needed 4 separate meds - a pill, two drops, and ointment in his eye. I could barely remember all the instructions.
When we got home, I had to immediately begin cleaning the house for friends of ours who were visiting for the weekend. My task was to vacuum the floors, then use the swiffer mop to clean the hardwood floors. It was 81 degrees, which was unusual for mid-October, but I had all the windows open. As I was cleaning the floor, I heard Wilson outside my office window in the garden, screaming at the top of his lungs.
I rushed over to the window to see him standing there, just fine. But yelling, yelling, yelling.
I told him I had to be finished cleaning soon because our guests were on their way, but I'd come outside to hang with him as soon as I was done. I only got two steps away before he started yelling again. Same routing. Finally, I just had to keep talking to him as I finished the floors. He never let up.
So, I went outside to a lounge chair, and sat down. Wilson came up to me, and immediately gave a head signal that I knew was for him to jump on my lap. As soon as I sat back, he jumped up, and he immediately got into his most comfy position across my lap, using my knee as a pillow.
It was at this time I realized that despite having upset his life for 4 days in a row, dragging him out of even a deep sleep more than once, and putting him in front of strangers that poked him, stuck things up his butt, gave him shots, and dropped things in his eye, my big beautiful wonderful cat knew that nothing I did was out of a sense of harm or malice. I was taking care of him, and he knew it. And, more than that, he knew that I needed to be comforted about my guilt for putting him through it all.
With one heaving sigh, he told me, "It's OK, Dad. I know that I need all this, and it sucks. But, I know you wouldn't do this to me if you didn't love me. And, I know what you are doing will eventually make me better."
It was one of the most relaxing 15 minutes of my life, as we watched the yellowing trees fluttering in the wind with the sun turning the sky into pinks, oranges, and purples.
Two days later, after our guests had left, Deb and I were watching TV with Wilson on my lap. It was the first "normal" night in a week. I looked to my left during a commercial, and suddenly there was this feeling that I had just seen something. Then it was gone. Then, I saw it again - a mouse.
Deb freaked out, initially. We asked Wilson to get the mouse, but in a way, I felt bad. He still was keeping his bad eye closed, and it really didn't seem like he was back to normal yet. Still, Sunshine was no where to be found, and this mouse was jetting around the living room as if a race car on nitrous.
Deb went to bed, and I stayed down with Wilson to help him hunt for this mouse. It only took him 10 minutes to catch the mouse, but then he did something really amazing.
Deb constantly tries to get Sunshine to take her mouse-catches outside instead of devouring them in the house. Mostly because she leaves behind the kidneys and some other entrails. Not to mention a bloody kill-zone spot. She always says to Sunshine "Take your mouse OUT. Seriously, can you take your mousy outside? OUT! Can you go OUT?".
It never works. Mice are always dismembered inside by Sunshine, usually proudly. Maybe a few flips in the air to show complete dominance before the devouring. But, she always eats her mice inside. Drives Deb crazy.
So, Wilson, upon catching this mouse, immediately starts walking towards his cat door. Cats kinda hate cat doors. They are so particular about their grooming, that brushing up against the door with their head isn't something they like to do. If we are nearby, they will always look cute to get us to be their doorman. And, we train them well by obliging. Or is it vice versa?
In this case, however, Wilson was having a hard time with the door, and I was astounded that Wilson, without hesitation, knew that his job was to get the mouse OUT of this house, like his Mom would have wanted. And, when I slid the door open, that is exactly what he did. He took the mouse out to to the patio, and finished his business there.
Wilson is my hero. In just a week, I have seen behavior and emotions from him that I don't think many people would believe from a cat, let alone most humans. His demonstration of love, appreciation, and giving just floor me. He makes me feel like the luckiest cat companion who has ever lived. I just may be.
