Moo’s Story, Part 3 of 4

Winter in Northern New York is known for its brutality: sub-zero temperatures and Lake Effect Snow. And winter sometimes arrives when the calendar says it’s still fall. The temperature was dropping rapidly, with the possibility of the first snowfall of the season coming this weekend.

And Moo was still living outside.

 

Moo
Moo, in the great outdoors

 

I had been desperately posting on Facebook about Moo for nearly two months, hoping to find him a home, or at least someone who could humanely trap him, get him neutered and vaccinated, and into a shelter. I was beginning to lose hope. I would be moving at the end of the month; I didn’t want to leave Moo… but how could I take him with me?

My Ex, who I’m still friendly with, became very fond of Moo, too. He called the cat “The Mighty Moo” and reiterated many times that if it weren’t for his “crew” (cats Oliver and Tiffany) at home, he’d take Moo in a heartbeat.

Then one afternoon, I received a message from a young woman I didn’t know. I’ll call her “Mandy,” since I don’t use any human’s real names here. Mandy explained that she works at a local veterinary clinic, and she also fosters cats and kittens for the SPCA. She saw my Moo post weeks ago, but at the time the shelter was full. Now that there was room for more kitties, she could come and get him that very day…

If I could catch him and get him into a carrier.

 

Moo raspberry
Moo sticking out his tongue… fresh kitty!

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

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Zoey, Part 5: The Vet Visit

I had recently become Facebook friends with a very nice guy named John.* He worked at the local SPCA, we had mutual friends, and our paths had crossed several times in the past.

I messaged John and he was swift in responding. He was free that day, and would try to get in touch with his vet friend and see if she could make time for an emergency visit. Luckily, she could!

I realized that if she was going to be admitted to a veterinary clinic, this kitten would need a name. No more Deejling, the nickname I’d given her because she so strongly resembled my late, great, cat Deej. I had scribbled a list of potential names in a notebook and I looked them over now:

Sadie, Evie, Maizie, Paislee, Gracie…

 

who me
Who do I look like?

None of them seemed to fit. She was a quirky little cat, headstrong, stubborn and very much a survivor. (That nasty throat puncture could have been fatal!) She needed a whimsical name, one that was as full of personality as she was.

I decided on “Zoey.” The name has Greek roots and actually means “life.” How appropriate; not only was this baby as lively as could be, she was lucky to be alive at all, considering the gory puncture wound on her throat. 

John drove Zoey and I to a veterinary office on the outskirts of the city. We waited outside the small building until the doctor pulled in the driveway.

Introductions were quickly made. Dr. Amy* unlocked the building and we followed her in. In the examination room, she tried her best to assess Zoey’s condition. I say this, because the kitty was hard to wrangle. She wanted to explore everything in the room, not sit still on a silly table!

 

VET
John tries to hold Zoey still

 

Dr. Amy did manage to get her weighed: a scant 5.1 lbs. The hole in her throat was, as I’d guessed, most likely caused by a dog bite. The rest of her scratches, however, were deemed self-inflicted; Zoey had been scratching herself due to a flea allergy. So, a topical flea med was applied. The doctor observed that Zoey was a bit sneezy and diagnosed her with an upper respiratory infection. I was given liquid drops to take care of that problem, plus antibacterial wipes with which to clean Zoey’s wounds.

I was feeling so relieved when we got out of there, that Zoey was going to be just fine with a little TLC, and grateful to John and Dr. Amy for their help.

But things wouldn’t stay all rosy for long….

 

*AUTHOR’S NOTE: Names of humans in this story have been changed to protect their privacy.