Miss Hobbs Still Doesn't Like Gregg...

Gregg was convinced Miss Hobbs needed to be checked out by the vet right away and was especially concerned about fleas after our experience with quarantine. I watched her carefully and didn't see any scratching or feel any lumps below the skin indicating irritation from bites. Nonetheless, I took Hobbs in the next available day and they told me it would be expensive.

In addition to a full physical exam, they tested her blood and stool. Hobbs is exceptionally healthy for her age and condition. They did de-worm her at the clinic. However, several days later I had to take a stool sample in because she had diarrhea. Just as I suspected, she had coccida. Since she's had this before, the vet put her on a 21-day regimen. It's a liquid suspension this time rather than a pill, so I just pop a towel over her, pry open her jaws, and squirt a little of the syringe contents into her mouth. She makes a token protest but we both know it makes her feel better.

She has annoyed Gregg mightily by urinating on his gym bag. She has done this at least twice. She also urinated on the kitchen floor several times. Gregg initially thought it was because of Sparky, but he went on puppy training papers right in front of the door, not under the hutch where she puddled. I looked on the mentor site at Purina Cat Chow and it appears her problem is most likely stress.

Miss Hobbs is not the friendliest of cats and has been traumatized since kittenhood after getting tangled in a plastic grocery bag. Since she's been back, the whole cat hierarchy has been upset. Considering she spends most of her time hiding out under our bed, I'm not sure what the big issue is amongst the cats. When she does come out from under the bed to walk around all stiff-legged, it's very evident she's an old cat. I wonder if she hasn't suffered from some sort of dementia. Or maybe she's just mad that I didn't try harder to find her.

Hobbs is Back!

I was talking to Mom on Sunday, 3 June, (late Saturday night her time) when I saw a cat walk across the patio. "Mom, I've got to go---Hobbs just walked by!" I dropped the phone and opened the door. The cat promptly took off running. Hobbs has been missing since late February when the back door blew open after we had gone to bed. Of all the cats, Hobbs was the only one who ran away.

I raced into the beddroom to get my shoes and ran back out, Gregg yelling after me, "If you find the cat and bring her back, the dog is going to GAIN tomorrow." I didn't hesitate.

Now the cat was nowhere to be found. I walked through all my neighbors' backyards calling, "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. Come on, Hobbs..." Nothing. I walked until I reached the street. Stopping, I looked around. I did not get the feeling she had crossed the street, and I looked up the street. I thought it unlikely she ran that direction either. I turned back and started walking on the other side of the tree line, still calling out her name.

All of a sudden, I heard her familiar meow. "Hobbs?" I called out again. She meowed in response. We kept the dialogue going until I saw her sitting under a clump of trees, waiting patiently for me to catch up to her.

I carried her home, a feather's weight of fur and bones.