"You did this to me..."
We knew when we brought "Casper" home from our friends' house that we would have to get him neutered. Tom cats roam our neighborhood, and trying to keep one as an indoor house cat when all the other guys are out screwing around might be difficult. Last Thursday morning I took him to the vet's office, dropped him off for his surgery, and did my best to ignore the feelings of guilt I had to deal with whenever I thought about him.
"He'll be fine!" the vet said. So did my lovely (and dangerous) wife. Everyone who's owned a cat offered happy advice, telling us we had done the right thing. But still... They call it "neutering," because "castration" makes us all uneasy. Or at least it makes most MEN uneasy.
Anyway, I picked him up Friday morning, and other than being a little more sedate than normal, he seemed completely fine. Sat by the window near the closest bird feeder most of the day, and slept more than he usually sleeps. But other than a few narrow glares when he seemed to be thinking, "YOU did this to me... and you have to sleep sometime..." he looked happy to be home.
Along with the cat, I brought home two pages of post-operative instructions, but I can sum it up with one line: Keep him calm.
Basically, if the cat loves doing it, it's not allowed for about a week to ten days. No running, no jumping, no pouncing, no smiling... nothing fun. Just lie there and think about the good ol' days when there were testicles back there where it hurts.
I've tried to explain the new rules to the cat, but something is apparently getting lost in translation. Last night he did his best to get frisky, batting at every passing toe, carrying his toys around, making that whiny half-growl noise he makes whenever he's ready to rumble.
But we can't play. Says so right here. See for yourself. (I've showed him the papers more than once...)
I walked through the living room with the Sunday editorial page a few minutes ago and swear I could hear the feline version of Neil Diamond and Barbara Streisand singing, "You Don't Play with My Mouse Anymore"...
Kitty guilt trips. Just what I need.