Tomorrow is Rupert’s dental surgery and to say that I am a bit nervous would be putting it mildly. I have a tendency to obsess about things:
- Freaking him out trying to get him into the carrier for a second time.
- Freaking him out because I have to sequester him in the room tonight with no food or water.
- Causing him any kind of pain at all because I assume he will be in pain for a few days and it breaks my heart.
- Freaking Moon out because his friend doesn’t smell or act normal after coming home from the surgery.
Trust is hard to come by with feral cats. We’ve put in a year of dedicated work to get Rupert to this point, and it frightens me to no end that his trust could disappear in an instant because we (I) did this to him. And don’t even get me started on the “What if he doesn’t make it out from under the anesthesia?”
My stomach is in knots.
I did join an FIV+ cat group on Facebook and the people there have been so helpful and positive when it comes to reassuring me that this sort of dental situation is common in FIV cats and that they bounce back really quickly, that being toothless is going to make him happier in the long run.
I want to believe all those things are true. He’s had such a difficult life, and the thought of losing him when things are just beginning to get wonderful for him makes me ache inside.
I mean look at these two.
Moon has been wanting to be with his friend more and more. Insisting really, to the point where I had to put the spare cat bed back in the room so that he could sleep as close to Rupert as possible. This is what I want for them until their last day. They deserve this kind of comfort and companionship, and this is what I want for them for years and years to come.
I drop him off first thing in the morning tomorrow, so I’ll let you know as soon as I know. Please send happy thoughts and energy his way. I’m sure he will appreciate it. Me, I’m just gonna drink until it’s over.