I’ve been keeping my holiday knitting close at hand while I work. One main holiday project is at the “mindless knitting” stage, where it’s mostly all either knitting or purling and I don’t have to pay that much attention to what I’m doing. When I’m working on VR reports, I don’t have to type all that much, so I knit while I’m reading. I have a TV table set up next to my computer where I keep the the knitting, and the infamous orange glass ashtray where the working ball of yarn sits. .
Although I work til midnight, I usually stay up until about 6 a.m. reading blogs and whatnot. I had been knitting Sunday morning, but I had set it aside for a bit. Apparently, when I did so, I’d left some yarn dangling. About 5:30, the board construct that I use to sequester my computer from the one that chews cords and the one that gets up onto my printer and eats the paper, fell over. When I got up to deal with the knocked over “door,” I discovered there was unwound yarn all over the floor, clear around the book cases to the doorway.
The white one had apparently hooked down the dangling yarn and started playing with it and somehow in the process, he had gotten the yarn wrapped several times around his left hind leg. When I tried to free him he commenced growling, snapping and fighting. I thought the yarn was just looped a time or two around his leg, but because he was fighting against it so, I couldn’t get any slack to try to get it off. I ended up cutting the yarn to release the tension on what was wound around his leg, thinking that once the tension was off, I could just hook the yarn with my finger and pull it off him. But, it quickly became apparent that the yarn was looped and twisted several times around his leg and it wasn’t going to just fall off with a tug or two.
In case you are not familiar with kitty anatomy, they walk on tiptoes, and that big bend in the cat’s hind leg is actually its heel. The knee is very high up, right next to the body. The white one had gotten the yarn wound around his leg up above his heel.
Compounding the problem is the fact that the white one does not like to be fooled with. He doesn’t like being brushed, never has, and no amount of bribery will change his mind. He doesn’t like having his mats clipped, or having his ears cleaned, or having his paw pads looked at, or anything of the kind. He just does not want anybody messing with him.
I did manage to determine that the yarn was not tightly wound and was not cutting off the blood circulation, but I had also determined it was wrapped several times around his leg and appeared to be twisted. It was too tight to slide down past his heel, and the only way I was going to get it off was to cut it. But, when I’d try to get at it, he’d snarl and snap and twist away. Trying to immobilize him by holding the scruff of his neck only made him struggle and yowl, and totally freaked out the other two, who were pretty jumpy, too.
By now it was almost 8 o’clock of a Sunday morning, two hours past my bedtime, and I had to work Sunday night. There was no way I was going to be able to go to sleep as long as that yarn was wrapped around the white one’s leg. My regular vet wasn’t open on Sunday, of course, but there is an emergency vet clinic that is. (One of the vets who founded the clinic I go to had sold his part of the practice to the other two and had retired, but apparently, retirement palled quickly and he decided to open up this emergency after hours clinic.) I called just to make sure there was going to be somebody there, and there would be.
Getting the white one in a carrier practically takes an act of congress. They were all very interested and growl-y about mommy getting the large carrier out of the closet. I stood it on end against the wall and opened the door, so I could just lower him down into it. Then I went to get my “outside” clothes on. When I was nearly finished dressing, I turned the water on in the bathroom sink, which draws the white one like a magnet. While he was lulled into a false sense of drinking at the sink, I finished dressing and went to get one of the kitty towels. It was an amazingly simple matter to throw the towel over him, grab him and stuff him in the carrier, towel and all. He didn’t even fight very much. I think by that point he was just so stressed he was exhausted. Poor old man.
So, the white one was the first kitty to get to ride in the new car. Thankfully, the clinic is not that far away. At this point, I should point out that it costs $85 just to walk in the door of this clinic. Anything else is extra. So, I filled out paperwork, and they called me back, and I told my tale of woe and yarn. (If I’d had somebody to hold the little rascal, like the vet would, I would probably have been able to get the yarn off him myself.) I told the tech they needed to put a muzzle on him, because he will bite. The tech took the carrier into the back room and I was left to wait. I heard no yowling or yelling. Turns out, it was a simple matter of taking the carrier apart, taking the top part off, slapping a muzzle on him, snipping off the yarn, and Hey, presto, Bob’s yer uncle. That’ll be $85, please.
Home again, home again, with a much chastened white one, who, typically, emerged from the carrier all hissy face and growly puss, and the minute the other two got wind of him, they were all puffed out and ready to repel boarders, too. It took them the better part of an hour to hiss and make up, so it was sneaking up on 11 o’clock before I was able to get to sleep.
I’d been asleep about two hours when my mom called. After church, she’d gone to eat with friends at Red Lobster. One of the ladies had brought her some desert bread for me, and she wanted to bring it by. Up I got and waited the 8 or so minutes for her to get to my house from Red Lobster, got my bread, stashed it in the kitchen and then got maybe an hour and a half of sleep before the alarm went off at 3 p.m. and I had to go to work. Now it’s Monday morning, and I’m sleeping in, thank you very much.