He's a feral that's been hanging around here, I finally developed a rapport with him and he was even letting me pet him some. I have a real connection with him and he's just the sweetest little pathetic mess. He injured his foot some how out on the streets -- it was a bloody mess, and he needed to be neutered; today was the day I decided I was helping this cat whether he wanted it or not.
It started innocent enough, I pet him, feed him treats, slowly, slowly... I GRAB HIM! He FREAKS out. Running into walls, climbing curtains, beating his head against the window. He is a wild cat now, totally feral, the love is gone and I am the enemy. I'm trying to catch him to put him in a container to get him to the vet and he Is. Not. Going.
Two hours pass, I am still fighting with this cat. I have my fiance involved, we're cornering him, we have moved furniture, unscrewed and removed window guards, everything we can do to try to get this cat into a box. He fights us the entire time. This is our only chance, we will not get another shot at catching this cat. He is exhausted and panting, we are sweating and frustrated, I'm crying, alternating anger and sadness over how stressed and scared this cat is even though we're trying to help.
We tackle him and get a hold of the scruff, I've got him in the box!
He's at the vet now. The tests came back clean for FIV and he's getting antibiotic injections for his foot; he is now neutered. I was a sobbing mess all the way there and all the way home. I'm so scared that he will never love me again the way he used to, that he will never be the sweet kitty he was just hours ago that let me pet him and pick burrs out of his hair.
Now I'm preparing the house for his return, setting up a calm recovery room for him, getting everything situated just so to try to make him turn back into the cat that let me pet him and love him before he turned into a wild feral beast. While I'm doing this it strikes me:
This feels familiar!
I know it's what's best for him and his survival, and a cat cannot make his own medical decisions, but isn't it funny how the analogy fits? Thanks for letting me get it out. My emotions are on overdrive. I really want him to be okay.