Thursday, September 24, 2009
Oh, we have a cat now. RD Condensed version: found an abandoned kitten pathetically trying to keep warm in the rain behind the exhaust of a filthy vending machine; we slipped it into a box for the night via rubber gloves and paper towels given its obvious and myriad parasite infestations; the vet said it will probably die but to try keeping it warm and fed and see what happens; we try; it's dosed with flea and mite meds; it stays alive; we kept it in the box in the entryway for the two weeks it took for the mites and their eggs to die; it's noisy and we worried we'd get kicked out of our No Pets hermitage; we didn't; two more weeks spent bathing it every other day to clear up mite ravaged, mangy skin--white fur, so it looked all nasty, poxy pink; still not dead; found a possible home but decided to wait to get it healthy and vaccinated so someone else won't have to; it made a full recovery--too full; possible home fell through; there are ZERO city/county/prefectural animal shelters in Japan; they eat dolphin here too in a few quaint little sea villages; I don't even know what to think about that; we considered the only private shelter in Kansai, but they have enough work and by then the cat was living here. It's name is Lolo.
Lolo is a tomcat, white with ice blue eyes, big pointy ears and a faint brown stripe that looks like the inside of a younger brother's dress shirt collar was wiped gently along the top of its key-crooked tail. He's constantly ambushing our feet, which earns him the off kick when we don't notice in time, and we're trying to break a biting habit, though most of that's probably just because he's teething. Lolo gets on OK with Coco, the in-laws' mutt. She's fascinated with him and sometimes gets too excited, but he'll smack her if she gets too close. Tomoko's mom's in love already and will take care of him when we're not here, despite her cat allergy. Sniffling weirdo.
Also, since it's sick, I'll mention it. Last Friday, we found little maggoty writhing sections of tapeworm in its stool, so we ran immediately back to the vet in vile angst for a broad spectrum internal parasite treatment. The next day we found out that it worked, but I can't believe the zoological extravaganza of freshly extinct vermin that burst forth in fecal jubilation as the wildly effective drugs passed through the little cat. Abject foulness. The cat sniffed its ghoulish waste once and walked off, totally nonplussed. I, however, am still retching, very, very plussed.