A Christmas Miracle!

Several years ago, a little calico cat showed up at our front door.  She was very, very shy and wanted nothing from us but food.  I began putting food out for her, and calling, "Come here, baby, baby!"  From wherever she was hiding, she came running.  During the coldest nights of the year, she would somehow manage to climb up on the roof of the house and cuddle down in the crevice above the front door where she was protected from the weather.

Months went by and she gradually got more approachable.  She let me pet her while she was eating, but she hissed every time she caught a glimpse of our two golden retrievers.  She didn't like our other cats, but she didn't fight with them either, probably because she knew she was too little to take on the bigger male cats.  When it became clear that she had adopted us, we caught her and took her to the discount "spay and neuter clinic" to make sure we didn't acquire a litter of kittens.  We were surprised when we went back to pick her up and the vet told us that when they did the procedure, they found that she had already been spayed.  Seems like someone at some time had thought enough to have her spayed, but just not enough to feed her!

A few months ago, my grandson decided to make her his cat.  He brought her in the house after the dogs were in our bedroom for the night and let her sleep on his bed.  Well . . . that changed her forever. Now she feels like she is part of the menagerie and is on her way to being a real domesticated kitty.

Today is Tuesday, and Sunday morning we found her splayed out on the garage floor, unable to stand, barely able to hold her head up.  Of course, we were dismayed and frantically trying to figure out what was wrong with her.  We googled, made phone calls, and examined her thoroughly.  No clue.  We decided that if she lived through the night, I would take her to the vet Monday morning. She still had an appetite, and seemed alert even though she couldn't control her body.

Monday at 9:00 a.m. I called the vet and made an appointment.  They couldn't get her in until 4:00 that afternoon.  I called my friend in California who has owned cats for 50 years and asked her what her thoughts were.  She said it could be a kidney problem.  I got off the phone and went to get Baby from her box.  I prepared some cat food for her and sat on the couch with her and the food.  She didn't seem interested.  I put the food dish on the floor and put her down next to it.  Suddenly, she stood up and walked drunkenly away from me.  I went over to the sink to get her some water, and when I turned around she was gone.  I went down the hallway toward my daughter's room and lo and behold! there was Baby back up on Kathy's bed.  She had walked from the kitchen to the bedroom and jumped up on the bed.  I couldn't believe it.

She has proceeded to get stronger and less wobbly today, and we are beginning to think she must have had a seizure.

The real point of this post, however, isn't that Baby miraculously recovered.  It is that I am not sure what we would have done had we taken her to the vet.  The bill would have been some where between $200 and $500 depending on what they said they needed to do.  Now, I love this little cat, but, seriously, how can vets expect people to spend that much on a stray that they just fed out of compassion?  I am just happy that she recovered on her own, and I hope it doesn't happen again.