In September, I mentioned that we adopted an orphaned kitten that had shown up in the neighbourhood. Pay-tah—spelled Peter, but pronounced the German way—was likely about 4-weeks old when he appeared at our doorstep the last week of July. Because he was separated from his mother too early, he faced a number of health challenges. Now 5½ months of age, he has overcome all of them, and is on his way to becoming a very big tomcat.
Yesterday, Peter went to his least favourite place in the world: the vet’s office. He has had at least 20 visits there already. Because of the skin condition he had when he was younger, he was given spa treatments (as the vet liked to call them). These treatments were, in fact, sponge baths with a medicated shampoo that left the poor little guy looking like a drowned rat.
Peter’s appointment yesterday had nothing to do with his previous skin condition. No, yesterday Peter was neutered.
Although Peter does not go outside, and unless he escapes, he never will, this will keep down his urge to wander. More importantly, it will prevent him from spraying inside the house (I hope).
While he was under anaesthetic, the vet also tattooed him with a numeric identifier which is registered. This way if he ever does get out, shelters can trace him back to me. But Peter also got a secondary tat yesterday.
One of the vet’s assistants is quite artistic, so the clinic also offers to do secondary identifiers which an owner can use to ID their pet. (Something simpler to remember than a numeric code.)
When it came time to choose a design, it seemed like somewhat of a no-brainer. Peter would get a saxophone as a secondary identifier.
After his surgery, while Peter was still under anaesthetic, the vet took the following photo and sent it to me. (It’s a little blurry, but you get the idea.)
Peter is now a bassic-cat with a sax tat. If only the little guy actually liked my playing. He doesn’t. Oh well, there no pleasing some critics.