So we decided to keep her and call her June. The name works out well since our other cat is named Johnny - you know, like Johnny Cash and June Carter.
Anyway, here's how my family has crossed the line and become "Them": The Nutty Cat People - not that there's anything wrong with that. It's just not a lifestyle choice we've ever thought of adopting.
Here's what happened -
One family member (who shall remain nameless) walked into the living room and found the kitten, June, choking. This nameless person yelled to me, "The cat's choking on her toy!!" It's a little fuzzy pom pom with a mouse face on it and a string of yarn with a bell on the end for the tail.
I ran in the room to see the FM (family member) sticking his/her fingers down the kitty's throat to pull out the toy. I jumped in for some kitty Heimlich thrusts. Nothing!! So I, too, stuck my fingers down her throat. What do you know!! She didn't like that. Not at all. So she ravaged my hand with her little kitty teeth and claws.
With my bloody hand I grabbed my car keys and with the other hand I grasped the kitten, and ran to the car. My daughter ran behind. We sped to an emergency vet down the street. The kitten was still breathing. Great. But the the object would be speeding its way down her stomach. We needed to move fast!
Stupid emergency vet! He couldn't see the kitty toy on June's x-ray. So in a huff, my daughter and I sped her over to a more trustyworthy vet. We told them about the silly vet who couldn't see the mass. They nodded their heads in sympathy, served us chai tea lattes and reasoned the best we could do would be an endoscope (sp?) (tube with camera) to find the object and pull it out. So the kitten stays for the over night procedure.
1:35 am - Phone Rings. I know it's the vet. My heart races.
Me: Hello? How's my kitten?
Me: Excuse me. (My heart dropped to my knees)
Vet: Sorry, you cut out...what did you say?
Me: The kitty, how is she?
Vet: Uh, fine. But we can't see any object other than food in her stomach.
6:30am - I go to pick up the kitten. She is to be taken, with catheter in tow, to our regular vet for further examination.
7:15 am - June the Kitten - who the vet assistant lovingly referred to as "Butthead" for her obstinate personality (it runs in the family) - and I drove (well, I did the driving and the kitten ran around the car clawing at her head cone) toward our vet. Maybe the object was lodged too far down?
7:20 am - My cell phone rings. I pull over from driving and dig my phone out of my purse.
Family Member who shall remain nameless: I found the toy.
Yep, the kitten never swallowed the toy. We suspect that her tooth was just caught on her collar and so it looked like she was gagging.
I told the FM who shall remain nameless, after realizing we now can't afford to go on vacation due to the cost of this fiasco, "Hey, don't worry. Let's move forward. Think of it as making a deposit in your karma bank."
I really want to believe that, because a week in Tahoe would've been a lot of fun. Anyway, apologies to the Vet we found to be lacking in medical knowledge. I guess that degree on your wall does mean something after all.