The Continuing Saga of Uncle Kitty Big Balls

Bless the little guy's bones.

The cat that Fred rescued -- whom we still call "Little Boy" or, at times, "Pickle Head," and occasionally, "Uncle Kitty Big Balls" -- is going to have one of his toes amputated tomorrow. Poor thing, he's been through the ringer.

We've faithfully administered antibiotics (he gets his when I get mine), washed and soaked his various wounds in betadine solutions, and applied constant love and affection, served up with mounds, piles, platters of food.

I'm not terribly happy with the vet, who never bothered to x-ray this rear paw -- the "thumb" of which was clearly dislocated, at best, and abscessed, at worst. Okay, so my parameters are off -- because today, she doesn't know what is at work in Little Boy Pickle Headed Big Balls -- in fact, she wants to biopsy the leg.

I am proud of Fred for stepping up when he did to adopt L'il Big Balls -- even if it did feel ever so slightly manipulative as I lay in the freaking ICU, struggling to breathe... No, I was doing well at the time and knew already how much he identified with the day-to-day struggles of this beat-up cat.

I mean, he looks rough.

Scruffy as all get out, shaved by an apparently shaky-handed vet tech, he bears an uncanny resemblance to Bill the Cat. Initially, we thought his bite wound to that rear paw was improving but over the last few days, it clearly pains him to put weight on the leg, and the various inroads continued to bleed after soaking -- and there is also considerable swelling. What has been confusing is the improvement in his overall condition, probably just the result of being fed regularly, and loved generously. Last night, we watched him limping around and decided to take him back to the vet for the fifth visit in two weeks.

So think a good thought for the little guy. How he has maintained such a sweet spirit while living as a stray in a fairly unfriendly [to cats] area, we dunno.

Me? Thanks for asking! I am almost up to 101 this afternoon, have incredible pain in the left shoulder -- the spacer is very clunky and I can hear and feel it grinding. There is pain simply to touch, and the whole area wants to explode. I am waiting to hear about yesterday's labs.

And I am extremely depressed.

The ID PA yesterday asked me if I wanted to go to Mayo.

My "case" is being presented tomorrow night.

God, I am depressed. Would that I had Uncle Kitty Big Ball's steadiness.