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Mr. Bitey Goes Home

The troubles of Bernard "Mr. Bitey" the Cat returned. He's been urinating in corners and licking under his tail and neglecting his grooming. We thought he was better now that we'd put him on the super-sensitive, ultra-clean cat foot, but that apparently wasn't enough. I had to clean large areas of the carpets to get the smell of cat urine out, and I caught Bernard trying to pee behind the television, by the couch, and in the corner by the front door.

This wasn't good. Urinary tract crystals are treatable, but only through a great deal of expense, and we don't have the money. We'd already spent more than $600 on Bernard's vet bills, and it was a struggle to pay even that.

I made an appointment with the vet, hoping there was something else we could do, but figuring Bernard probably wouldn't come back.

Turns out I was right.

Bernard =likes= the vet. He was a foundling kitten that lived at the vet until young adulthood, when Darwin and I adopted him. When I took him to the vet the first time for the urinary tract problems, he freaked out during the ride, but calmed right down at the vet's office, then purred and rubbed against everyone and everything. He clearly remembered the place.

I got the same reaction this time. Bernard was an unhappy passenger--I was an unhappy driver--until we arrived at the vet's, and then he was happy as could be. I explained to the vet what was going on again, and she examined him thoroughly. She remembered him from when he was a kitten living there. The vet tried to get him to express urine, but couldn't. He was blocked up.

She gave me treatment options. All of them involved anesthesia, minor surgery, and long-term care involving meds and prescription cat food. Unhappily, I told her we couldn't afford that, and that since Bernard was in pain most of the time, we'd have to put him to sleep. "Please do it now," I said, "before I lose my nerve."

Sadly, the vet went into the back to get "the blue form" for euthanasia for me to fill out. I paced the room, still unhappy but not seeing another alternative.

A bit later, I heard through the door the vet talking. She seemed to be on the phone. I couldn't hear everything, but I caught some medical terms and "It's Bernard." I opened the door further and saw the vet talking into the receiver.

"Maybe we could do that," she was saying.

I got hopeful. "If the clinic wants to keep him again," I said, "we'd be ready to do that. He loves it here. It's his first home."

She nodded. "I'm talking to the owner of the clinic about it right now."

I went back into the exam room and paced again. (Bernard was in a pen in the back at the moment.) Eventually, the vet came back.

"We can keep him, if you want," she said. "We love Bernard and would hate to see him put to sleep. We can treat him and keep him here."

I was so relieved for Bernard. "That would be great!"

The vet had me sign a letter that transferred ownership. I paid for an office call, said good-bye to Bernard, and left.

Bernard has gone home.

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Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
nancylebov
Oct. 4th, 2016 04:05 pm (UTC)
What a happy ending!
bentleywg
Oct. 5th, 2016 04:26 am (UTC)
That's great news for everybody.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
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