Frankie had to go back to the vet's for a few days of boarding, as Gregg and I had an already-planned trip to Dallas so that I could attend a course that I need to take for my master's degree. I had to leave town the day after we got back to go to a short conference for work, so I was eager to get as much petting time in with Frankie as I could beforehand. I picked Frankie up from the vet's at about noon, and was pleased to see a freshly bathed and eager kitty waiting for me. When we got home, Frankie helped me pack (mainly by sitting on my luggage), and then I held him on my lap until my boss and co-worker came by to pick me up. I love to put Frankie in my arms like a baby to answer the door. My boss was delighted to meet him, and is going to help us in our search for a proper home for him.
When I returned home from my conference, Frankie was happy to see me. He ate some wet food from his food bowl while I unpacked. When Gregg got home in the evening, he was surprised that Frankie had eaten because he had been off his food all weekend. Gregg had called the vet, who had recommended force feeding, tuna fish, Hill's AD, or gruel. Not knowing what she meant by gruel exactly, Gregg had picked up some tuna fish and some Iam's, both of which Frankie eventually started eating (we have to mash everything up fine for him with a fork).
The wire in Frankie's jaw is what causes him to have difficulty. When I put a bowl of food down for him, he looks up at me and meows as though to say, "Now how I am supposed to eat that with this thing in my mouth?" Then he'll grab at pieces of the food with his mouth, spilling a lot of it on the floor, and eat it with his side teeth, his head tilted to one side. He ends up with bits of tuna on his rabies tag, his whiskers, his white paws, plus he drools all over himself. He's quite the messy kitty. We have to wipe his chin with dampened napkins like a baby.
Gregg took Frankie to the vet yesterday because he thought he was sick. Frankie had taken to hiding under the bed, and Gregg saw some green discharge come out of his remaining eye and heard a sneeze. It turned out that Frankie was fine, and the only thing really bothering him was that wire, which had slipped a bit in his mouth. The vet said that he suffered a severe trauma to his head with the accident, and there may be some discharge occasionally. Kind of gross.
The great news is that the vet took the wire out of Frankie's mouth. She said that his jaw looked healed. Apparently Frankie ate like crazy when they gave him some food after removing the wire. Frankie had lost half a pound due to being lost, and having so much trouble eating. He was extremely underweight when Stewart and I first found him on the porch - now he weighs only 7 pounds and they say he should weigh 10! Gregg and I are doing our best to fatten him up, and now that the wire is out we should have no trouble. The boy loves to eat. After he got home he had some more food, and a really long drink from his water bowl. The wire had also kept him from being able to drink water and clean himself. After that I helped Gregg give him a two-man bath. Frankie hates baths. Sopping wet he looked shrunk down to nothing, with his skinny Grover-like arms spread and his claws extended, trying to get out of Gregg's grasp.
Anyway, now he is fluffy and clean, comfortable and eating well. He has also calmed down a bit - he is no longer so endearingly desperate to be loved and kneading like a kitten. But he is still very affectionate, and falls asleep in our laps, batting his paws out while he dreams his kitty dreams. I think he is feeling a lot more comfortable and not so afraid of being abandoned. Gregg and I are really going to miss him when he goes to a permanent home.
Frankie is still living with us, although I have hung up a sign and a picture of him at my work, had my Jazzercise teacher make an announcement to the class, and we have asked the vet to let us know if anyone is interested in him. Gregg and I would really like to keep him, but we'll have to see if an air filter and vigilance with bathing Frankie and vacuuming the house is enough to allow me to live with him. He has really become part of the family in a short amount of time, starting the day off meowing for food, greeting me when I come home from work by meowing for food, and saying good night to us by meowing for food. He has put on a lot of the weight he was needing in just a few days, and I can no longer feel his vertebrae easily when I run a hand down his back. His fur has become softer and lusher, and he is looking like any other healthy, well-cared for house cat, except for the missing eye. We are trying to keep him to a bowl of breakfast in the morning, a bowl of dinner after we get home from work, and a small late-night snack, so that he won't turn himself into a fat cat.
I had thought that Frankie was being less friendly and more aloof because he was getting over his trauma and feeling more comfortable being independent, but now I can see that he was just feeling bad because that wire was hurting him. He has returned to jumping on my lap when I pat my knees (very endearing), and kneading his paws a bit if you scratch his rump. Sometimes he sits on my lap facing towards me, with a paw on my waist, like he's giving me a hug. He's such a sweet cat. And to think he would have just been wandering around on the streets with no real owner if he hadn't gotten hit by that car and come up on our porch!
It has been almost a month since my last entry, and in the interim Frankie has convinced us that he is truly part of the family, our furry little boy. He is now a good weight, and even has a hint of a tummy, and looks great. He is still an incredibly affectionate cat, jumping on our laps for petting, dashing for the front door when he hears Gregg's key in the lock, and poking his nose around the shower curtain to keep me company while I'm showering in the morning. We try to spend a lot of time with him, grooming him daily to avoid hairballs and shedding, teaching him to play a little bit for the first time, and mostly just holding him in our laps and petting him while he rumbles quietly, content with his new family.
We have invested in a HEPA filter to take cat dander out of the air, give Frankie a bath once every week or two (which he absolutely HATES, but he looks so cute and fluffy afterwards), and I vacuum regularly. Unfortunately Frankie sheds an unbelievable amount, probably due to the summer heat. Our landlord still prefers that we do not have a pet, so we are looking to move, a daunting prospect considering we will have to find a secure place for the feral Scaredy Cat, such as a fenced yard or place where we can put up a cat pen until he gets acclimated to his new environment. But with all of the things we have had to deal with to get Frankie back on his feet and to hopefully keep him for the rest of his life, we feel like we are the lucky ones to have such a great cat as our companion animal. The miracle is not that Frankie found us, but that we found him!
Last Friday I took Frankie to the vet because he has the sneezles. He has always sneezed occasionally, but the sneezing increased in frequency and Gregg and I both thought he should go to the vet. The vet and one of the vet techs at the West Alabama Animal Clinic were both excited to see Frankie. He has gained weight since he was there last, after being lost, when he weighed only seven pounds. Now he weighs eleven pounds! They thought he looked wonderful, and his coat looked much better. I'm so proud! The vet said he might have an Upper Respiratory Infection or allergies, and gave him some antihistamine and antibiotics in a shot, and gave me some more antibiotics (or as we call it, "the pink stuff") in a bottle with a dropper. She said he might have a rhinovirus, similar to herpes in that it will keep coming back occasionally. Of course we had him vaccinated with the 4-way vaccine for respiratory stuff, but he could have caught something during his time as a stray.
We did manage to find a great apartment, which we will move into at the beginning of next month. It will give Frankie more room to roam around while successfully keeping him out of the bedroom (a bedroom door - how novel!), and we will be able to bring Scaredy Cat in as an indoor cat.
Frankie continues to do well, enjoying the life of pampering, petting, cat toys, and treats which is now his. We can't imagine how we ever got along without our Frankie! He is truly an incredible cat, gentle and friendly, playful (loves to explore grocery bags) and affectionate (kneads our knees contentedly before settling into a lap). He gets along well with the other cats (we have adopted a third), and everyone who meets him likes him. We were so lucky to find him.
RESCUE . . .