Cat-Tastrophy

Sometimes your cat gets run over by a car. It happens.

Today, Adam, my Recognized-by-the-State-of-California-Domestic-Partner, looked at me squarely in the eye and with an adult tone said, “It’s supposed to rain for four days, I’m going up on the roof to clean out the gutters.”

I did not argue. Each year, Adam does this job. It’s really more about checking them than cleaning them, but no matter what, you have to get up that ladder. When Adam opened the side gate in order to move the green can (that’s the garbage can for plant material only) our ancient cat, Oliver, ran out. This happens. Frequently. But usually, he just runs toward the house next door or down the sidewalk a bit, playing a game of “Catch me if you can,” and he is always caught.

However, on occasion, when he’s either been cooped up too long (which he has been lately) or if he feels just plain old crazy, he’ll dart across the street to an imagined freedom. Today, he darted and a car ran right over him. A Toyota.

Adam started screaming and crying. He called me outside. He said he saw the car run right over him and he was certain that Oliver was dead. Of course, the cat sprinted and was nowhere to be found. Our neighbor, Mike, helped us to look for him. The neighborhood pastor asked us what was going on and we told him and he said, “He ran away, that’s good. It means he’s still alive.”

A stranger stopped his car and asked what was going on, too, and we told him and he said the same thing. I became optimistic.

Adam, Mike and I searched people’s yards. We assumed he’d be in one of them across the street. Mike found him and called to us. His booming voice scared the cat and he zipped under the house through a bungalow vent hole. I heard him under there, meowing, quite upset. Adam ran for tuna and came back and coaxed him out. We all agreed, it looked like one of his back legs was broken but that he looked kind of okay. We jumped in my 1992 Geo Prizm ambulance (147,000 miles) and we rushed to the Vet. Emergency style.

Our regular Vet has been spending time with her father since he is dying, so there has been a parade of temp-Vets in the office. Today’s was a lovely woman with one arm. She was also missing, it appeared, most of her shoulder. She was a cool headed woman with a fine face and warm, dark hair. And pretty. I have a feeling her arm situation was a birth problem. Or was it bitten off by a tiger?

Apparently, when a cat gets hit by a car, the Vet worries about three things: Lung lesions, a ruptured bladder and of course, broken bones. You would also worry about internal bleeding, however, our cat showed no signs of that and also, no signs of shock. She took him to the back to run tests. Adam and I went to the Bob’s Big Boy on Wilshire (very retro, I ate a waffle, quite tasty) and then returned. Besides being a little shaken and perhaps a little bruised, there was absolutely nothing wrong with the cat, at all.

She gave him a shot of fluid to help stabilize his blood pressure so there would be no chance he would go into shock. She gave him pain medication. She gave us more for later. She told us the X-rays all looked good. He appeared to be fine. Complete relief.

An amazing pussykins!