A couple of days ago, my daughters noticed something wrong with one of the kittens.
Check this out.
It looks like one of Mild Cheddar’s ribs is dislocated. The line I marked traces what we can see, and feel through his fur.
Here, you can see the line at a different angle.
When touching the area, we can actually feel what must be the top of his rib.
We don’t know what happened. It could be from roughhousing with the other kittens, or from jumping down a tree. Who knows.
He is walking around well enough, though there is a limp, but he’s not running and playing like the other kittens. When he wants attention, he’ll climb onto a lap and just sit there.
We did our monthly shop in the city today, then the girls and I made another quick run into town for some small things we don’t need enough of to warrant picking up in bulk at Costco. We decided to see if the vet clinic was still open, and got there just 20 minutes before they were supposed to close, so my younger daughter and I went in to talk to them. My husband and I can’t afford paying for a vet, but my younger daughter is willing to pay for it. It’ll basically cost the equivalent of a paycheck for her, though. 😦
While my husband and I go into the city tomorrow for his angiogram, the girls are going to get themselves into town with the kitten in time for the vet clinic to open in the morning.
While asking about that, I also asked questions about Doom Guy. He’s been having respiratory problems, with coughing and sneezing fits.
Really disgusting sneezing fits.
We can’t bring him in, but there are options. We were able to get some non-prescription medication to try with him, that we can also give to any of the other cats if they start coughing and sneezing, too. It’s most likely to be herpes, the vet says, and if he’s got it, they’ve all got it. We’ll see how it works. At the very least, it won’t hurt him.
So giving him this paté type stuff twice a day is now added to our routine.
One of the things about yard and barn cats is knowing that their survival rates are low. It’s just a fact of life. Growing up here, we never even noticed if any of the barn cats got sick. They just disappeared. Then new ones would show up.
But these guys are right underfoot – often quite literally.
How can we not do something, when we have gone out of our way to socialize these babies, in hopes of adopting them out?