‘A cat comes into your life to fulfil a gap in it,’
said a meme on Instagram .
What was the gap in my life that Baby Loaf had come to fill, I wondered, as I went to feed Scooby, my pet stray. Or little Nimki? Loaf and Nimki are our two cats. Or Smol, Laddumati, Nimki’s biological mum Mishti, Sushi, Snappy, Scooby, Ruth, Goldilocks, Curl and Polly. Our community cat friends.
What is the gap in my life that they had come to fill?
‘Nimki has puked more than 10 times today,’ I messaged our vet.
‘10?! Anything more than 2 and you should call me. Take him to the 24 hour pet clinic right now,’ she messaged back.
It was 9pm. K and I requested our neighbours, one an expert cat rescuer, to help put Nimki in a bag. The little one can fight like Bruce Lee when cornered. Our neighbour had a Buddha-like calm to him and the cat was in the bag without much ado and we drove to the clinic.
Then the maelstrom begun.
The little baby fought ferociously & had to be sedated.
‘His bloodwork is clear.
X Rays show that he might have ingested a string. His intestines look bunched up. We might have to cut him open and see. We will do an endoscopy first. We can see half of his intestine that way and see if there’s a string, else we might have to cut him.’
We were shell shocked. A friend came over for moral support. Another came with her boyfriend. They had gone to bring in his birthday but came back on hearing the news. Nimki and Loaf are loved by so many.
Eating string is Nimki’s version of sniffing glue and what the vets said was plausible.
A bit later, ‘the scopy shows that his stomach is full of ulcers. He must have ingested something in the last two days. Not a string thankfully. We are giving him antacids intravenously. You can take him after that. He will be groggy and aggressive as the sedative wears out’
We went home and kept Nimki in the bag as we were advised to. He roared and fought like a bruised and battered Rocky Balboa taking on Ivan Drago in the last round of the rematch; he staggered and rolled in his basket till we took him out…and growled when his elder brother came to check on him and scared him off. Was this really our little Nimki!
We went back to the vet’s the next day. His cries, as he was hooked up for the IV, was heart wrenching, K and I held to him turn by turn, while he was held by impassive, patient and sincere orderlies for hours.
Men don’t cry? Not at the vets.
A young couple sobbed in the lobby as they saw their dog whimper while being treated in one of the rooms. Tears streamed down the young man’s face.
‘Baby, come back. Mummy loves you,’ cried a lady again and again in the next room. Her husband joined her, as the dog didn’t respond.
I don’t remember when I had last cried, but I sobbed as I held onto Nimki’s paw and listened to them.
Being at the vet’s can break the most hardened of hearts. The little ones look at you with scared eyes. There’s a constant chorus of plaintive cries. Pet parents look devastated, thinking of what their babies want to say, but can’t. I tried to give a reassuring pat to a huge retriever, and later a tiny indy pup, who whimpered while attached to IVs. There were a group of ladies who had come with their cats. A feeder had rescued the pup but didn’t have the funds to keep it overnight as the vet recommended. The ladies heard her and immediately offered to sponsor the pup’s treatment. Turned out that they contribute to the treatment of strays. Animal care is expensive. Angels come in all shapes and sizes it seemed.
We took Nimki back at night. He sat on K’s lap at home, and shuddered. Remembering what happened all day.
This morning he got on to my lap. He his head into my tummy and finally shut his eyes after not having slept all night because of the trauma . He reached out and hugged my arm with his front pawsHe purred happily. He was safe.
Then it was time to go. It felt as if I had betrayed him.
His grand mom had come over yesterday on hearing what had happened. ‘What is my role,’ she asked today as our neighbour came over to help us put Nimki in the bag.
‘Come back at night. We will give him some food. We can stop the IV if he doesn’t throw up,’ said the vet when we reached the clinic.
We went home. Everyone was pensive. His mum, both his grannies, his various uncle and aunts, his elder brother, Baby Loaf.’
‘Nimki is doing good.
He is sitting comfortably.
He drank water nicely.
There are no vomits till now. Come at 9.30 to pick him’ messaged the vet. We heaved a sigh of relief.
Loaf came out from under the bed for his evening snack. He settled on our bed while I sat beside him and typed this.
What need did the boys come in to my life to fill?
I still don’t have an answer. Do you?
Update: We have brought Nimki home. The doc at Super Vet’s said that we don’t need to bring him back unless he throws up.
Wow Kalyan! I am visiting your blog after several years, and quite stunned to see its new look & feel. I really miss the good ol’ days of blogging, where we had our very own community of readers, who would gladly hop on to read and comment. Now sadly, everything’s insta. I blame myself too, due to lack of time, I abandoned writing on my blog(but slowly beginning to write), and started those quick short insta-shots. 🙁 Well, that’s the magic of these short-lived insta fun.
Anyway, back to your post, I have always loved the simplicity of your writings, I am not a huge pet fan(not that i dislike them). Just that, I am not into it. Nevertheless, find relationship with pets can be quite endearing. Purely defined unadulterated, unconditional love.
Thank you so much Dew. So lovely to have you back here. I have recently updated the look of the blog. I am glad you liked it. I use Instagram posts here too to be honest. I am so glad that you connected with the story despite not being into pets