Oh, the week she's had!

Constance MacKenzie, my little girl cat, is purring like a motorboat as I write this, and it's the most glorious sound in the world. For Thursday was the most awful day she could imagine. But here it is, Saturday night, and she survived and is back to being her old sweet self.

She was suffering from Stage 3 Periodontal Disease. There are only 4 stages. Deep cleaning and scaling were required to remove the plaque, a tooth was extracted, and cells from the site of the recurring oral sore were sent to the lab to rule out anything dire. This was complicated and expensive, and she understood none of it.

What she did understand was that she was Outside. Connie hates Outside. I could leave the front door wide open and she wouldn't even approach it. All she needs in the world is in this condo.

Worse than Outside, she was away from me and surrounded by strangers. Unfamiliar hands and voices! Her front leg was shaved for an IV.

There were dogs at the vet. Connie is never, ever around dogs. 

When she awoke, she was stoned. Disoriented. In a cage. It was awful. What fresh hell is this?

They put her in her carrier and brought her to me. As soon as she heard my voice she started purring so loud I could hear her from a few feet away. The guilt was enormous. She didn't think of me as the monster who brought her to the vet. I was only the angel who rescued her.

When I got her home, she was happy to see Roy Hobbs but was unsteady on her feet and very confused. She wanted to be sure her water and her box were where they were supposed to be, though she didn't use them. Then she hid under my bed. Where she stayed for more than 12 hours.

I was worried because the anesthetic she was given in the hospital would be wearing off and I wanted to give her a pain pill. But I didn't want to reach under the bed and drag her out. That would be too cruel. She has a brain the size of a plum pit, and she's trying to process all that had happened to her. So I crushed her pain pill and mixed it into a few spoonfuls of Gerber baby meat. I slid the bowl under the bed and she lapped it up. The medication did the trick and when she started feeling better, she ventured back into her world.

Where she's been ever since.

I don't know if she's feeling better, now that the infected tooth is gone and her gum is healing. Or if she's just so relieved to be back in her familiar surrounding and her old routine. But all she does is rub up against me and purr. And purr. And purr.