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Old 04-14-2005, 02:54 PM
BETrLAT238's Avatar
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Join Date: Apr 2005
Posts: 1
A stray cat was brought to me one day with a broken leg. I was asked to care for him until arrangements could be made to have his leg surgically repaired.
When the cat arrived, I could see that his rear left leg was just hanging there, yet the cat seemed to have adjusted well, as he was running, playing., etc.
It was my suggestion that the leg be left alone until the cat shows signs of pain or other problems present themself.
A orthopedic surgeon was located who said the leg could be repaired and that she would do it.
The day of the surgery, I took the cat in to speak to the surgeon regarding the details of the operation as well as post op. The surgeon was not available at the time, but a consulting vet insisted the surgery needed to be done and assured me that it would be successful, so I agreed.
Later that day, the consulting vet called me and said that once inside, it was found that the leg could not be repaired and insisted that amputating the leg was now necessary. She said she needed approval immediately since the cat was on the operating table.
I requested that the incision be closed up and the leg be left alone. She insisted that was not possible and amputation would be the best for the cat. Since I would not give approval for the amputation, the vet contacted the other responsible party and convinced him of the amputation and it was done.
AFter the surgery, the cat returned home with me and for the first time since his stay with me the cat showed signs of pain and discomfort, and was unable to function well with only one rear leg. The cat was taken back to the vet for examination and they found nothing out of the ordinary.
One month later, I came home and found the cat screaming in pain unable to move. I rushed him to a local vet who took Xrays and found his remaining rear leg was broken.
Because it appeared to be an old break, that it was not necessary to perform emergency surgery.
I have since learned that the vet who was supposed to perform the leg repair did not. I also learned through consultations with many vets and orthopedic specialists that the remaining rear leg was already fractured and because of the amputation, the remaining rear leg gave way.
I have not taken the cat in to have this remaining rear leg repaired because of the probability of having to have this leg amputated then having to put him to sleep.

This cat is an EXTRAordinary cat to me because he is a survivor! He has taken his situations and made the best of it.
He has been dealt with unfairly, but he continues on. It is still unknown what caused his fractures, but he remains active (as much as one could expect in his condition), and so loving.
I myself could and have learned a lot from our cat, who we call GIMPY!
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  #12 (permalink)  
Old 04-18-2005, 09:19 AM
Catwoman's Avatar
Nine Year Member
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Join Date: Sep 2003
Location: North Texas
Posts: 549
Love Knows No Distance

When I was 9, we got a kitten from an elderly woman I used to visit. She lived in East Texas, just a few houses away from our camphouse, where we spent lots of weekends. Her cat had just had several kittens, and after about 3 months, she offered me the biggest one, a soft, black, gentle giant.

Malachi grew huge over the next year, and ended up weighing 25 pounds! He was a large cat overall, not a butterball- just lots of muscle and power. He was quite gentle, but was also a very good ratter, so he earned his keep. He was a very sweet cat and would cuddle on my lap while I watched television and played with strings or ribbons like he was a ten-week-old kitten. We had several pets, but he established himself as my best buddy out of all of them.

After my first year of college, my parents and I packed up the house where I'd lived my entire life and moved Mom and Dad to Ohio. They were from Ohio and WV, and they'd bought some property near one of my aunts. They were building their retirement homestead. I came back to college in Texas that fall, and since I lived in a dorm, Malachi had to stay with Mom and Dad.

A week after I came back to Texas, Mom called to tell me Malachi was missing. They hadn't seen him in four days. I was heartbroken, and Mom was so upset at losing her best mousecatcher. Mom and Dad put out signs, checked the shelters, and took out an ad in the Columbus paper for a month. Mom and Dad resigned themselves to the fact that Malachi was gone and decided not to renew the ad for the following week.

The next day, a woman called and told Mom, "I think I have your cat." Mom and Dad drove to this woman's house, forty-five miles away, and sure enough, she had my cat. Malachi had been shot with a bb gun when he was younger, and the telltale bb was in the right place. The woman, whose name I will never forget, had two cats of her own and had been taking care of Malachi for two weeks by the time she called. She just happened to read the classified section of the paper and see the ad. She'd found him under some bushes near her house on a rainy night. He was shy, but he was friendly when she offered him food, so she was sure he belonged to somebody. She called him "Midnight" and posted signs in her neighborhood, which we wouldn't have seen from forty-five miles away! She lived southwest of Mom and Dad and had to cross a river and several streams to get to this lady's house. He'd gotten fleas and ticks and had been shot by another bb gun in the process. We fully believe he was trying to make his way from Ohio to Texas to find me.

Mom and Dad took Malachi back to their new home, and he spent the rest of his days in my aunt and uncle's horse barn, just two houses away from Mom and Dad. He died at the age of 15.
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