There will be an audition practice update soon, too. But I thought you’d like to know where our little muffin is.
He pees and poops in the box now. Victory is mine! Started doing it the 2nd day. I never thought I would be so happy at something so stinky. He also takes his antibiotics like a trooper, mushed up with some baby food, and eats everything we give him. Last night, he meowed! Or sang. Not the sort of plaintive maooooo of pain or some other discomfort. This was more, “Uh, guys? I am so bored!” I made him a box tunnel and he sometimes shuffles around in there, but mostly it’s behind the G D washing machine with his brethren, the dust bunnies, who are also feral.
Our next adventure involves taking those drains out. There are a number of mobile vets, and depending on the read I get from them, I will either have them sedate the guy so we can take him back to the original surgeon, or have them do it on the spot. I am torn, because the hospital is pretty high-end, and I know their work. The downside is that Grey will then go through the whole car ride/carrier/humans suck deal on the way home, and I don’t want to stress him any more than he already is. I like the idea of him waking up in the laundry room with a fuzzy feeling but not much more. It will be great to see him without tubes, that’s for sure.
EDIT, 28 April: Grey’s tubes came out today. Mobile Vet came and handled him with such gentle care that we didn’t even need to sedate the fuzzy kid. As he held him in a towel, he encouraged us to give him some rubs, and it was nice to see his eyes soften into something other than a terrified glare. We moved the washer and dryer feet away from the wall, and without his usual place to hide he now sits atop the wine fridge, a little worried, but doing ok. He sure is a soft little guy. Pictures coming soon.
I’d have him sedated and then taken to hospital, but that’s just me. It’s one of things like you mentioned, you know the quality of care they’d give to Grey.
Take a pic or two? Remember, as hard as it is, this is all for his well-being. He’ll love you in the long run.
Naturally, we all know the important thing is that the Earl get fixed so as not to make more wild, uncared for animals, and live as best a life as he possibly can given his nature and temperament, whatever that really is. Not that he become a household pet.
Still, it’s such drama. Can the noble and fiercely independent wild beast become a calm, domesticated family member? White Fang of the felines.
He is Fang! I have taken to calling him Greyhole. He is such a vortex of destruction when his wild side comes out. He does show signs of reverting to domesticity, though. We got him a cat condo, and he likes it a lot. I am tempted to put up a sign: “The Doctor is IN” like Lucy does in Peanuts. This morning, I inadvertently cornered him (something I try to avoid) and he made two leaping bounds. One right over my head (and you know I’m tall) and one precisely behind the washer! Hissing all the while, don’t you know. What a Greyhole. And yes, I agree. Now that he’s fixed, at least he won’t make any more wild babies to suffer coyotes and euthanasia. We don’t need him to be a lap cat, but we also need some guarantee that the house isn’t going to be destroyed. More condos and distractions will help. We opened up the bathroom to him today. It links to the laundry room. He went right behind the toilet, but didn’t object too much when one of us went to use it. Baby steps, I guess. It’s only been a week.
Love your description of feral dustbunnies. Reminds me, I really should vacuum today.
I hope the little furry critter is feeling better by now.