Medical Emergency Part 1
My sister and I have come up with a favor asking code. When we need a favor that’s small and easy to do, we call the other and say, ‘Um.’ “Would you pick up some milk for me while you’re at the store? Can you drop me off at the mechanics to pick up my car?” If the favor is somewhat inconvenient, we are expected to say the ‘um’ guiltily. When one calls the other and says, “How’s my favorite Sister?” we know we’re going to be doing something like going to Detroit, tonight, in a blinding snowstorm.
When Sister called me early in the morning, on a work day, and asked how I was, I knew my day was shot. “There’s something really wrong with Frequency; she can’t use her back legs at all and they’re shredded on the inside. Can you take her to the vet?”
Mentally I groaned. My house was trashed, and this is about the only time this week I could do my shopping. But one of the cardinal rules of family hood is that one does not refuse to do a sister favor, nor take care of a hurt pet, especially not to go shopping. She told me, “I don’t want to spend more than about $50 on this cat. If she takes more than that, just have them put her down.”
Poor Frequency was in so much pain, I couldn’t pick her up without hurting her. Though vets always tell you it can kill cats, I popped an aspirin down her throat, and it did seem to lessen her pain.
The lady vet was rather snippy about the $50 limit, but said she could take one x-ray for that amount. She came back shaking her head, “Somehow,” she told me, “this cat has managed to snap both leg bones off where they meet the spine.”