I took Sammy to see the vet today.
Sammy is not my cat, but he's sure cost me a lot in vet bills. He followed me home last year, was born around the November before last, tried to barge into the house of some friends several blocks away before barging into my life.
He's like a wild little animal, feral as a farm cat, threatens to shred me if I try to pet him or pick him up.
This was his second trip to the vet, and he was as good as gold. Again. The vet soon had him purring, rolling on his back, generally sucking up.
I don't know what it is vets do, but they know how to calm ornery animals and make them calm and obedient.
The first vet I took Sammy to is a city vet who hasn't had any dealings with cats that roam the countryside. She had difficulty believing that a cat could get tick bites. The guy I just took Sammy to see has seen lots of feral cats that roam the tall grasses and get covered with ticks. He gave Sammy a type of strong antibiotics that releases over two weeks (more appropriate than the last batch), plus medication to keep ticks at bay. It's something new on the market because it used to be that you could only give this type of stuff to dogs.
The ticks are terrible this year. I have a Summer job as the groundskeeper of the local golf course, and have to inspect myself for ticks at the end of every day. Nasty little buggers, very tough to kill, very difficult to remove in one piece. Still, an amazing piece of genetic evolution. They start off flat, hard, and impossible to smush. Once attached, they swell up to gigantic proportions and turn into a sort of tough rubber ball full of blood.
I see shots and neutering in Sammy's very near future, and adoption by one of my neighbours.
In my view there's no such thing as a stray- just irresponsible humans.
Sammy vs the vet
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