Yes, I named him. Since he comes when I call for Peggy (and just to confuse things further, I call Piggy Piggy Piggy when I’m looking for her), I chose a rhyming name. Iggy it is.
It rained nonstop from when I got to work until 1:30 when I went to lunch. First thing I did on my break was get soaked while walking around the building calling and looking for him. No sign of him, or Peggy. To be expected in the rain, really, but it worried me for my plans.
I sat in an open doorway and ate my lunch, looking for him and hoping he would come to where he last saw me the day before…nothing. Just as I was about to go back to work, my phone rang. It was my favourite coworker.
“Get in here, quick! Your cat is in the warehouse! The managers are all right here, they will freak out!”
I bolted for the area Iggy was in, wrapped him up in a moving blanket and took him back outside. I gave him a can of tuna, closed the door, took all my stuff back to my workbench and went back out to see how he was….no cat.
He was already back in the warehouse, as comfortable as he could be. Shit!
Another coworker was bringing her carrier in, but she was still at lunch. Shit shit shit.
I couldn’t leave him in there. He followed me everywhere. It is a crazy busy place, not safe for little kitties! Not to mention getting me in big trouble for encouraging him.
Another of my favourite lads said that there was someone in the office who wanted him. So I went and got her. Iggy-to-be loved all over her…but also tried to bite her twice. She is very young, still lives at home, and had to ask her parents if she could bring him home that night. To make the hours I waited shorter, the answer eventually was no. Well, maybe for the best. Iggy never tried to bite me.
Eventually the carrier arrived, and I popped the remainder of the tuna inside. I’d also brought in a tee shirt of mine as bedding and to hopefully make him feel safer when caged – familiar smell and all. He went right in. Door closed…tuna gone…the howling commenced. I covered the carrier with the moving blanket, but he was going a bit berserk, pulling the blanket into the carrier. And noisy? Oh yeah.
He calmed down a bit, but not before one of the aforementioned managers said I should move him to an outlying building in case the Big Boss heard him. So I did.
I rang hubby to give the update, and he suggested I ring the vet and ask if I could bring him in tonight. It would be a huge favour. I work until 6:30 and the vet we love is 45 mins away from where I work, even when someone drives as fast as I do. The doc on duty said he would wait for me. This is why we love this place!
I made it in 35 minutes, due to very little traffic. Iggy was incredibly good in the car, I have to say! I covered the carrier again, and that may have helped. He did pee on my shirt, however. I don’t blame him one bit.
On arrival, he came out of the carrier not in a rush but happy to be free and happy to see me and be loved on again. Doc Richard squeezed the abscess and it…fizzed. Like spit bubbles. He said it was oxygen generated by the bacteria festering in Iggy’s cheek. Iggy didn’t complain or try to get away, either. Instead he rubbed the bacteria juice on me, yay!
Doc said he is between 2 and 4 years old, and has been indoors before by his behaviour. Not just in a warehouse, but a real house. He gave Iggy an antibiotic shot which was huge and only hurt him toward the end of the syringe. It was a lot of cc’s. Doc Richard also pointed out that the small wound by Iggy’s ear is the other side of the bite that caused the abscess.
Best of all, Richard thinks that Iggy will easily adapt to being an indoor cat and toilet train himself quickly. Doc also scanned for a microchip (none of course) and agreed that Iggy ‘is a lovely fellow.’
I’ll ring tomorrow and see how he is doing, of course. He might need a few days to heal before being neutered, too. It’s okay, I’ll figure something out for him. Everyone who met him thinks he is just lovely, and he is.