This morning, Monty got his first vet visit outside of a shelter setting and he took it… fairly well, all in all. He only made the vet bleed once or twice whilst trying to play, and his head-to-toe checkup revealed some good (he’s up almost a pound since his adoption!) and some less than good (see below), but nothing catastrophic. Wocka wocka.
Vet agrees that he probably got hit by a car or something similar, and the oddball toe is either a result of that event - or he’s just a mutant who was born that way, because it is either fully healed or normal for him, who knows. His right eye - which still oozes a little bit once in awhile - seems to be about as healed as it’s going to get, and his upper-respiratory infection has cleared up. However, the strange spot inside his upper right lip is type of ulcer that indicates a bad allergic reaction to something, likely food-related.
We half expected to hear that, considering that Monty is kind of full-time itchy, so there will be some food changes/experimenting over the next little while. But in addition to these things, he’s having some peculiar breathing issues - but only sometimes. It’s like he can’t quite catch his breath, and he wheezes softly - often (but not always) after he’s been playing; but it doesn’t sound like asthma or congestion.
The vet thinks (based on a variety of factors) that he might have a case of lungworms - which I know, sounds awful, but it’s not that bad. Though he was treated at the shelter, the lungworm treatment is a separate thing - the regular dewormer won’t get them. He’ll need a couple weeks of treatment, and then he should be fine.
Anyway, we’ve ordered the appropriate stuff, and we’ll get him started on it when it arrives. He’ll be fine until then.
Insouciant gold-eyed gray tabby cat plants his furry butt on a laptop keyboard - while making solid eye contact with the person who is just trying to work over here, for crying out loud.
Meanwhile, Lucy’s efforts to woo the little man continue apace. Greyson is 100% content to leave Monty alone, which means Monty is 100% content to hang out with Greyson in near proximity; but Lucy is still Trying Too Hard. Like, hilariously too hard, but one of these days she’ll wear him down. She’s gradually learning that barking at a cat won’t get her anywhere, and that he seems to respond best to dogs who lie down quietly and don’t make eye contact.
At present, they are both asleep in the living room with me - Monty on the couch, Lucy on the floor. (Greyson is in my office on his bed.) In short, they’re all cohabiting just fine. Monty is still the boss. And no, that missing leg is not slowing him down in the slightest.
Monstrous Gray tabby stands on his lone rear leg atop an old record player cabinet, using a shelf to brace his front feet while he sniffs at all the shiny, breakable things - and that reminds me, I need to pick up some museum wax.
Most nights he sleeps upstairs in his small kitty condo with the seat that overlooks the driveway and the bird-feeders, but around dawn he’ll often come downstairs and cuddle up with the humans in bed until the alarm goes off. He is very purry and very sociable; he’s basically my little shadow. If I get up to go somewhere/do something, as soon as I turn around…there he is.
His personality is really starting to pop, and I don’t know what we thought we’d adopted, but it turns out we’ve brought home an adorable little monster. Monty basically has two modes: (1). a sweet little baby who needs cuddles or (2). a wolverine who just woke up in the trunk of a car. He plays WILD and he plays for KEEPS. And these two modes can switch out on a DIME, but we’re getting better at reading him and accommodating him - and we’ve picked up several wand toys, for the sake of our shredded and bloody hands.
We also persuaded the vet to trim his claws. I nominate this woman for sainthood.*
The truth is, this is the first time we’ve lived with a young cat in a long time and it’s an adjustment for everyone. Even when Quinnie was younger, she was never quite this mobile - she was enormous and relatively slow/heavy; this little dude is a svelte 11 pounds and roughly 2 years old, and he does not seem to have noticed that he’s missing a leg. He’s climbed every climbable surface in the house, and then some. It’s occasionally terrifying.
Daring gray tabby cat with gold eyes sits on a narrow ledge between a window and a stairwell, as if this is a perfectly normal place to sit.
In other news, he has fully embraced Quinnie’s old morning routine of “when the people come upstairs first thing in the morning, shriek at them until they open the front door so you can see if the neighbor cat is out there waiting for his morning treatos, because I, also, would like some morning treatos.” Since the neighbor cat is - more often than not - in fact waiting for his morning treatos, this works out well for everyone. They seem entirely amicable, and will hang out together through the window screen like old bros.
I’m glad he has a cat friend, even if the cat friend is outside. Monty spent his life in a colony, prior to this, and had exclusively cat friends (apart from whatever person was managing the colony, I guess). Maybe one day he will have a Lucy friend, or a second cat will fall into our laps. Who knows.
But for now, he seems pretty happy and confident just being Monty, Lord of the Dogs. He’s a charming, weird, funny little gentleman - for all his occasional wolverine tendencies - and we are terribly lucky to have him.
Obnoxious gray tabby cat sits atop a vintage buffet that’s been turned into a bar; he lounges next to a bunch of glassware, and is backlit by a marquis-style sign that reads “COFFEE” (it’s a long story).
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*This is a mobile vet service so they come out to our house, and yes, our usual vet is a guy - but he’s been having some health issues, and today we saw someone else from the same practice… as well as the usual vet’s assistant, who the dogs all know and greeted most warmly.