Sherlock's Vetinary Adventure
He must have been uncomfortable with them, as they were covered in tartar and some were going bad. Of course, bad teeth are known to cause lots of other health problems - both in animals and human beings - including heart problems, so it was definitely important that it was dealt with fairly soon.
He doesn't like winter time and tends to lose weight. At that point, he was a bit under the weight we like him to be and we decided to make sure he was eating well and a bit fitter overall, before attempting any operations, so he had the best chance possible of making a good recovery.
I thought it would be better to wait for warmer weather, as he loves to lie in the sunshine and always picks up health-wise, once the warmth of Spring gets into his old bones. So, we set about feeding him up and encouraging him to get a little exercise etc. Then I made an appointment, a couple of weeks ago, for Sherlock to have an overhaul, prior to booking him in for his dental work.
The vet gave him a checkup, then put him on a 10 day course of antibiotics, as a precaution, and booked him in for last Tuesday.
So, Tuesday morning dawned and Sherlock made his journey to the Vet, shut in his box, rather fed up, accompanied by me and Davey. We had to leave him there overnight, so they could check his blood pressure, give him blood-tests for kidney function and general health, then put him on a hydrating drip overnight, to make sure everything was working well before he had an anaesthetic.
It was strange at home, without our little cat. As soon as we got back, I was opening the door and calling "Sherlock, we're home!", as I always do... :-( no Sherlock, of course.
It was sort-of empty - no cat round our feet in the kitchen; no cat lying on the back of the sofa; no cat following me round the house. It didn't make the little nagging voice, that suggested he might not come through the operation, feel any easier to bear.
The vet very kindly called us, around tea-time, to confirm that his blood test results were better than she had hoped, his blood pressure was normal and she would therefore put him on the drip and operate in the morning. We were to call at the end of the morning, or early afternoon, to see how he was and whether he would be able to come home, or would have to stay in their special care unit overnight.
Wednesday was a tricky day - I was supposed to be working on a batch of commission books, but really, I wasn't getting on very well. It's hard to be inspired by your work, when you have a little niggling worry on your mind... I did my best and tried to get on with my day, but it was a relief to be able to call the vet at 1pm, to ask for a progress report.
He was fine. In fact, he'd come round quickly and was, at that point, sitting up and nibbling on tuna, fed to him by a kind vetinary nurse! Would we come and pick him up - say, around 2:30?
Well, what do you think? Of course we would ... we could hardly wait for it to be 2pm, so we could get in the car and drive to the vet, without seeming to be in too much of a hurry... (after all, we are British - we don't indulge in unseemly public displays of anxiety, distress or over-excitedness...it's just not done!)
So there we were, sitting in the vet's waiting room, at 2.20pm. Adele, the vet, came out to fetch us, went over the operation and told us that he had done very well. Aparently, she'd only had to remove five teeth, as the others, once cleaned up, were in good condition (made me feel very pleased that we try to take care of him!). He had more antibiotics and some painkiller, that we should use only if he was in pain.
He came out to see us, looking a bit dopey and bewildered, but so obviously happy to see us, that we both felt a bit choked up, I think! And we brought him home, made a fuss of him, settled him comfortably on his bed.
The little shaved spots, where he had blood tests and a drip...
Of course, he didn't stay there. He's fine. He has been carrying on as if nothing had happened. He seemed a bit uncomfortable that first evening, after the painkilling injection from the vet had worn off. So we gave him his half-dose of Metacam (yes... I wasn't happy about Metacam, but the vet assured us that a half-dose could safely be given to him - and he was fine). After that, he hasn't needed more help, other than being given soft foods only for a few days, to let his mouth heal up (none of his "dental" treats in the mornings, only his small tablets, that he can swallow easily, with the antibiotics in a little bit of cheese to mask the taste.
We're so lucky to have Sherlock. He's a fabulous little cat and we all love him. It was so hard to make that decision, for him to have his teeth done, as the risk of losing him was very real. But he has bounced back, with no apparent ill effects. I was even able to call the vet on Friday morning, to tell her he didn't need the follow-up appointment to check his painkillers etc, but could wait for his final follow-up in the next few days. It's a relief to have him home and well. We hope he'll have many more happy years ahead of him now, with a more comfortable mouth and better health as a result!
"Love that Old Cat" - an old page, but so appropriate!