Yes – we’ve already gone through all of the “Toes-less” jokes; in fact, I announced the amputation to my daughters by telling them that we may have to change the old man’s name to Wormtail.
ANYWAY, in the intervening weeks, we’ve been dealing with a slow-healer (he IS in his 21st year, after all; let’s cut the poor boy some slack) and a secondary infection. When the first course (and kind) of antibiotic didn’t seem to be effective, the doc put him on another. I have been diligently dosing my very disinclined-to-cooperate cat every night for a week.
I brought him in for a follow-up this afternoon. The tech checked him over (maintaining his weight, no fever) and then took him out back so the doctor could have a peek under his bandages.
I kind of love this vet. He gives me the impression of being a kind-hearted military man; he’s quiet, straight-to-the-point, and very clearly cares about what he does. He came back into the room with my old man tucked under his arm (without his bandages!) and an uncharacteristic grin on his face and told me, simply;
He wants Toeses to endure another round of the antibiotic, but he’s confident that we’ve gotten the best of this particular infection. Toeses, for his part, doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s going to be able to go outside tomorrow; I want to give him some time to get reacquainted with his un-bandaged foot, and to remember that he’s still got that fracture to be mindful of. I also want to be sure that he’s going to stay close to home so I can continue to administer his meds.
I, for my part, am deeply grateful to the doctors and technicians at my new favorite veterinary practice. I’m planning on baking them some chocolate-zucchini muffins to express my gratitude.