Neutering Our Kitten, Funny Adventures in Cat Adoption: Part Three

Hilarious account of what we did and didn’t do (but should have) when a five-pound bundle of fluff dropped into our lives.

Our recent adoptee, Skeeter, is scheduled for neutering. On the night before the actual snipping, we must keep him NPO (no food or drink by mouth) from midnight on. At least for last week’s blood work, he was permitted his usual hearty breakfast of wet cat food. Every morning he normally careens out of his room like a food-seeking missile (we keep him separated from the others at night – they’ll either kill each other or join forces to cause mayhem and mass destruction).

Skeeter has learned that when we open the door, his food dish will be full and waiting for him in the kitchen. For his first month with us, he was a speedy blur as he ran to the chow line. Now that he is older, bigger and more mature, he has slowed down and we can catch a glimpse of his stripes at his slower Mach 2 race to breakfast. I am wondering how we are going to pull off No Breakfast on Wednesday morning.

We got a reprieve, or I should say, Skeeter did. Not on the neutering – but on the “no food at all” admonition. We must wake him at 6:00 AM (no, we are not all up already by 6 AM), and give him 1.5 ounces of his normal wet cat food. Phew! I could not imagine living with a toddler from another species who cannot understand English (at least that’s what cats want us to think) and to withhold his food until we leave for the veterinarian’s office.

This seems to be Planned Parenthood Day at the veterinarians’ office. Other cats and dogs are waiting, calmly and blissfully ignorant, to have their genetic legacy eliminated forever. Skeeter’s name is called. One of our favorite vet techs meets with us to re-explain the procedure. Like a fierce she-bear, I question him about how they will put identification on our Skeeter and other mother-type questions. He satisfies me, and My Guy leads me out to the car.

The next day we pick him up at 10:30 AM. They bring him inside his carrier, so we can’t really judge his ability to walk or look at his stitched area. The good vet tech meets with us again to go over discharge instructions and to tell us what a “cool” cat Skeeter is. He cooperated with everyone and all the staff loves him. I totally understand.

We have been truly blessed. The procedure went well, our Skeeter-Cat is alive, and now he'll be home again.

To be continued.

Copyright text and photos 2011 Maren Morgan