Monday, November 9, 2015

The early days


By Sabrina Hudson


Yes, the early days in my new home were a bit rocky for various reasons. I was very weak from starvation and also found I had some other issues that needed urgent medical care.

After taking what seemed to be half my blood to be sent out for tests, the vet gave me a quick once over and found that my anal gland was rock hard and he would have to knock me out and then inject something directly into it to soften it up before he could express it. He talked it over with Mom and Dad and told them that I was so weak he didn’t want to do it because I might not wake up but there was no choice. I soon felt a pin prick and fell asleep, and when I woke up, my rear end felt much better.

The vet sent me home with a big supply of medicine and told me to come back in a few days for him to look at me again. When Dad carried me from the vet’s office to the car, he seemed to walk a lot faster, and I surmised it was because his wallet was so much lighter.

The vet also said he didn’t want me to associate with the other cats because he wanted me to stay quiet and get some of my strength back. This presented a problem. I ended up sharing the porch with Pogo, which was a nightmare. I’m sure you’ve all heard of someone called “Grumpy Cat.” I’d heard of her but always thought she was just a myth to frighten little kittens when they misbehaved. Well, I’m here to testify that she is real and her name is Pogo!

I was still very groggy when I came back home and onto the porch, so Mom just left me inside the carrier with the door open. When I became fully awake, Pogo was sitting in front of the door and explained that she did not appreciate uninvited company and every time I tried to get out, she would whack me on the nose.

She would only retreat when she saw Dad bringing me small servings of food. I would come out of the carrier, gobble down the food and seize the opportunity to drink water and use the litter box before rushing back into the carrier. A few days later, after I had regained some strength, I decided it was time to put an end to this nonsense and walked out to challenge Pogo, which turned out to be a big mistake.

We began the battle by bowing our backs and making our fur stand on end, and then we tore into each other, rolling all over the porch, biting and scratching at each other. I received the short end of the stick because Pogo bit my tail and hit an artery. I was spurting blood for a couple of hours and got it all over the porch. When it finally stopped bleeding, Mom cleaned the porch and washed all the blood off my tail then cautioned me to not provoke Pogo because she is old and a bit grumpy. A bit? I thought. She’s the original Grumpy Cat I had heard about.

Well, this blog is getting kind of long and Hobo wants the blogs kept short, so I’ll be quiet for now. My next blog will cover more medical problems and my early days after I moved into the house with the rest of the family.
 
 
 
 
 

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About Hobo


This was Hobo Hudson, my doggy brother, a little terrier mix with black fur. He became famous after his first attempt at writing stories, which was an article published in the newsletter of our local animal shelter, the same shelter in which I ended up years later before Hobo and his parents adopted me. Hobo’s fame quickly spread as he made a name for himself as a business dog and an adventurer. To keep his memory alive, my doggy sister, my three kitty siblings and I, Wylie Hudson, are continuing his blog. Our mom is the blog’s editor.

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