#Happenstance veterinary clinic series

Jellyfish didn’t have a regular vet, because Stokes and her husband had just moved to the Cleveland area. The local emergency animal hospital was so backed up that it said the wound-serious but not yet life-threatening-wasn’t really an emergency. It’s an exclusive club – by invitation only – and I and so glad I was asked to join by one special little cat.When Michelle Stokes noticed a necrotic wound on her cat, Jellyfish, last July, she and her husband had to call about 50 vets before finding one that could squeeze them in. I know a lot more now and have become one of an elite group, enchanted tortie lovers. I knew very little about torties before I met Lucy. I have friends who do not believe Lucy lives in my house, because strangers are to be hidden from, yet supervision of the tradesmen working on our renovations is deemed necessary, albeit from a safe distance. She loves my husband and me unconditionally. At the very least, she hastened my diagnosis and treatment. So – was it sheer happenstance? Dogs have been known to detect cancer – but cats? I know Lucy found my cancer.

Five years later the powers that be were tentatively pleased with my progress. Eight months later I was pronounced fit for work. I spent months dutifully following every instruction I received, attending every appointment and downing every medication.

#Happenstance veterinary clinic series

I went through a series of surgeries, chemotherapy and radiation – I won’t go into detail. My doctor saw me without an appointment, I spent a day at the Sydney Breast Clinic confirming my fears and by the end of the week, I was in surgery. A lump I should have found myself had I not been so haphazard in my own self breast examinations.Įverything changed in seconds. I reached across to stop her and as I moved her head I felt a lump. She repeated the behavior the next morning but this time she was much more insistent – annoying even. I moved her away as I was about to get up and attend to her breakfast. She leaned across me and pushed my left breast with her head. One morning, her snuggles varied a little. We would snuggle and then I was gently encouraged to start her day with food and litter duties. Each morning she would jump onto the bed accompanied by her lovely trilling calls. She adored Toby, loved my husband, but was obviously my kitten. Within minutes they were firm friends and remain inseparable to this day. Lucy put on her best firebrand impression and made much noise. Our next task was to introduce her to Toby. That night my husband and I could hear what can only be described as cat Olympics as she bounced and jumped and skittered in her new, very own space. I would head in every half hour or so and sit on the floor with her while she sniffed, played and explored. She had spent all her time in a vet’s enclosure so I decided to start her off gently and gave her her own little room with all the basics: a bed, food, litter, water and toys. He was unusually amenable, and the next day, Lucy and I became an official item. “Lucy never talks.” I quickly asked about all the necessary adoption details and hurried home to convince my husband. “Besides” I added, remembering our exchange earlier in the day, “she is an amazing talker.” The nurse looked askance at me. She pointed out that Lucy was not really a tiny kitten anymore – she was a lanky 5-month-old and growing fast.

Meanwhile, the nurse was conducting her own, if somewhat covert, interview with me. She snuggled and purred and rubbed her head on my wrist. A veterinary nurse brought Lucy, and the little girl made all the right moves for an adoption interview.

I was ushered into one of the exam rooms. Not this time.Īs soon as I finished work I drove straight back to the vet’s. I mentioned Lucy to my husband and for once he said “Let’s talk about it when we get home.” In the past, he had always countered any kitten request from me in a kind but firm negative. I was late for work but the germ of an idea was hovering. We had quite a conversation and I felt wretched that she was the last of the two litters. It was clear to me that I was being summoned, so I took a closer look at the little lady who was demanding my attention. A loud trill came from this tiny tortie creature. Without even thinking, I checked the enclosure and made eye contact with the last kitten. I had just heard on the news that a juvenile whale found in a waterway in the northern part of Sydney had been euthanized, and I was feeling sad and even a little teary.