The tale of Ellie Wyatt

A couple of years ago a bedraggled kitten showed up at my front door with a look that could only be described as “grumpy”.

I couldn’t blame him.  I mean if I had been dumped at someone’s doorstep, presumably because they knew I liked cats I would be grumpy too.  I toyed with a name for a while, and not knowing the sex I fell upon naming the kitten “Ellie Wyatt” after my favorite grumpy person on a forum I am a member of “The Fogbow”.  The real Ellie was delighted, and actually suggested the name of the kitten once I had described it as “grumpy”

Tragically the real Ellie Wyatt was killed in a car crash on Thanksgiving weekend two years ago, as she was traveling in her mini-van to join her family for Thanksgiving Dinner.  That made me cherish my own Ellie Wyatt even more, and once I discovered that the kitten was actually male, I refused to change the name.

Ellie Wyatt has had lots of adventures since that time, not least of which was discovering snow for the first time, and realizing that he really didn’t like it.

This week he went missing for a couple of days and then came home starving and with what I thought was an obviously broken leg.  I do not know what had happened, other than the fact that he had perhaps been trapped somewhere that his leg was broken in his attempt to escape.

Finances are not that great right now, thanks to my husband needing a battery of tests for new chest pains, and the resulting co-pays and deductibles that had to be paid.  In desperation I went to the fine folks at Balloon Juice, a blog that I visit every day, and as usual the wonderful people there donated enough money for me to get Ellie Wyatt to the vet who is a friend of my husband’s in Columbus County.

He wasn’t best pleased of course, he was in pain, and the idea of a drive in the cat carrier didn’t please him.  He escaped once, and ran rampant throughout my husband’s car, great scratches and blood ensued but eventually he calmed down.

Once at the vet Nicole (our vet) discovered that he had a torn ligament, and a dislocated knee, which she corrected with surgery.   Apparently he has a birth defect which causes his knee joints to dislocate and then relocate, a very strange thing.  He was repaired, and (while he was under anyway) neutered, (is he going to be mad when he figures that out) and sent home with a bevy of drugs.

Since he has been home I have been administering his pain meds twice a day, simply shooting a syringe of the stuff into his mouth.  It is obviously a serious narcotic because the warning on the label states “may cause drowsiness”.  Really?  Apparently, (according to DH) it is the kitty equivalent of morphine, and it has the desired effect.

He has basically slept 23 hours of 24 for the past two days.  He wakes for the required amount of time to eat his dinner (laced with glucosamine to help his joints) and then he retires back to his spot on the dining table to go back to sleep.  He will occasionally rouse himself to accept a scritch of the head as I walk by him but then he falls right back to sleep.  He has four doses of the morphine left, so I am assuming that we have two more days of the sleeping until he wakes and begins his normal routine.  We shall see.  All I know is that my darling Ellie Wyatt is no longer in pain and has been fixed and I look forward to many years with him, sat in my lap, and demanding scritches.



2 thoughts on “The tale of Ellie Wyatt

  1. Wow. I forgot how bedraggled Ellie looked when he arrived. How sleek and beautiful he looks in the snow picture!

    Here’s hoping after the drugs wear off he is back to normal.

    And many thanks to Balloon Juice! The web can really be an agent of good sometimes.


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