Thanks to everyone for the good thoughts for Annie! Her surgery on Friday to remove the cyst/tumor from her front paw went well. The poor thing did have to lose a toe in the process, but the vet is sure she'll be just fine without it. Her paw is still bandaged up so we haven't seen her paw yet (though the vet did show and tell with the toe). She gets to go in for a re-check on Wednesday so I'm preparing myself for what it might look like. She's doing fantastic though. She's actually more energetic than she was before, she's bouncy, barrels up and down the stairs without problem, just doing great! She doesn't even mind taking all the pills...as long as we wrap them in a piece of lunchmeat :)
Now I do have to say I had a very strange experience when I went to pick Annie up on Friday afternoon. Whether it was merely coincidence or something else, I don't know. Now Friday is the vet's procedure/surgery day and evidently they tell everyone to pick up between 3 and 5. I pulled into the dirt parking area (this is a country vet after all) no later than 2:58, as I was eager to pick up my Annabelle. Apparently I wasn't the only furbaby parent to be in this mindset because other cars were pulling in at the same time. When everyone got inside the tiny waiting area, we were a bit squished. The assistant was assisting a girl who had dropped off two dachshunds that morning, same time as me so I took advantage of an open chair and took a seat, trying not to be worried or anxious.
The dachshunds' mom was being told that the male had to have 15 teeth pulled. (Side note: The assistant cushioned that news by pointing out that my poor dog had to have a toe removed) So it turns out this dog's name is Kona. I saw the name on the chart when I first stepped into the office, but didn't know it was her dog and decided not to think too much of it. Okay, coincidence. Kona, of course, was also the name of my rescue kitty and the very non-feline-like cat who died last spring. I'm just starting to hear pets named that more often, though I didn't think it fit this stocky red dachshund all that well. Beside the point...
Maybe 30 seconds later, in from the exam room walks this scrawny blackish cat, impossibly wild hair, wirey tail. If I didn't know better, I'd think it was Kona. She weaved her way through the waiting people, came over to me and jumped on my lap. Petting her, I noticed how skinny she was, how paper thin her white skin was. Just like Kona, who had trouble keeping weight on because of her chronic renal failure. I had to feed her baby food and do IV fluids to keep her healthy and hydrated. I do wonder if the waiting room kitty had the same issue. Her face was the same as Kona, her eyes were wise and patient. The only things that really were different was gray hair scattered sparsely through this cat's fur and her front paw wasn't "knuckled" like Kona's, who had suffered an injury to her paw as a stray that vets said they couldn't repair. It was a bit part of why she wasn't being adopted at animal control. To be honest, they didn't do much of anything to help her in that respect. When I got her, she was completely malnourished, bony, completely covered in mats, stunk to high heaven, bitter, and quite rightly pissed off at everyone. In fact, her first post-shelter vet exam indicated she was growling when they were trying to listen to her heart. Who knew she'd turn into such a sweet, affectionate little girl.
So of course I was flooded with thoughts of my little Kona and I talked to this cat in the delicate voice all pet parents magically develop. I didn't mind the slightly greasy feel to her fur or the fact that my slight cat allergy started to tickle my nose. It was just a surprising and surreal little moment in the waiting room of this country vet with a furnace in the corner and framed prayers for dogs and horses on one side of the entry to the exam room door. She jumped down from my lap once to go peek in the exam room and immediately returned, hopped up on the chair next to me, which had just been abandoned and climbed back over to my lap and sat down, nudged me to pet her.
When the vet called me back, I placed her down on the floor and went to hear the report on Annie. When I came out with Annie propped on my hip like a toddler, there was no sign of the cat. I carried her out to the car, called to let my mom and Brady know she was okay, and on the drive home Annie and I split an order of tater tots from Sonic...because that's what we do :)
It was just one of those things--could be complete coincidence or maybe this cat was a little angel sent to comfort me. Either way, I was grateful for the moment.