The Jazzy Chronicles: Princess Pinecone
Hey there Coffee House readers! Jazzy the kitten here again with more stories about life with Tish and Roy. You can find links to all of my previous Jazzy Chronicles stories nestled inside the one called Chasing My Tail. The last 2 weeks have been quite eventful. We have had several car rides, which means they put me in the cat carrier, and sometimes I go home right away, but other times I have not. Let me explain.
I have been going to see what Tish and Roy call the vet. I was there before I was living here, so somehow they know where it is, and they keep bringing me back there. Purr-sonally, I would rather hang out at home, and climb all over the cat furniture; I mean, they bought it for me, am I right? It has been difficult to be me for the last two weeks, and I am not sure why. I think the car rides and the vet are the reason.
The first time Tish and Roy took me there, they left me. While I was there, I got sleepy. When I woke up, my belly hurt a little. Not a lot, I am a super kitten, and nothing keeps me down for very long. Tish came back to get me, and they took me home.
When we got home, things were not normal. They put me in isolation in the small bathroom again. Tish and Roy would come and spend time with me, but I wanted out! I am not a baby kitten anymore. I know how to use the box, and I could not understand why they kept me in there.
Tish tried reading out loud to me and working on her laptop in the isolation room. When I was alone in this isolation room, I meowed louder and louder to let them know they were being silly. I was fine; I wanted out! I even used my claws to leave a few marks on the door as I tried to escape from the isolation room.
Photo by Tish MacWebber
Then, they moved me to the master suite. It was like a castle compared to the isolation room. Tish showed me how to get onto the bed with a step stool to climb from onto the hope chest, and then I could climb on the bed. I used this path to go up and down, and Tish was happy. My belly was not a huge concern for me, but as the days passed, Tish and Roy were paying more attention to it. I was unaware of anything other than my desire to run, jump, and play all the time.
They kept me inside of the master suite by keeping the door closed. The air conditioner was running, and I had a queen-sized bed to nap on. I had room to move; therefore, it was not as unpleasant as the isolation room. Just when I thought things were improving, the worst thing happened. They took me back to the vet.
There had been one follow up appointment in between these visits. I remember little about the second visit. I got sleepy after every wet canned food meal ever since that appointment. The first day after I was very mellow, and I slept a lot. Then I didn’t get so sleepy, and I was back to being active. Tish kept telling me to stay calm, but I am a kitten, and kittens need to run and play. It is a requirement. After visit two, one thing I can’t shake is the cone of shame. I dislike it. I got one front leg stuck inside of it with my face, and shortly after Tish wiggled my leg back out I got it off. To my utter disgust, they put it back on me. I have since wiggled out of it one more time, but they put it back on me again. Even the cone of shame couldn’t slow me down! I was jumping from the bed to the headboard and back down again in no time. I even saw them outside the window from my perch on the headboard. They were climbing out of the blue, noisy thing that takes us all to the vet clinic and back home.
So, when we traveled to the vet the third time, Tish left me at the clinic again. I had a really long nap, and when I woke up, Tish came back to get me. She took me home, and that is when they added insult to injury. They put me in JAIL!
Photo by Tish MacWebber
I don’t know what crime I committed, but I am now behind bars, wearing the cone of shame. I have food and water. The litter box in jail is barely adequate. It is so tiny I miss the mark with my deposits if I am not careful. They clean up after me, but I hate jail. It cramps my style.
The memory foam cushion they put inside for me helps, but not much. It has pine tree branches and pinecones fabric on it. I spend a lot of time on this cushion while I am in jail. It is comfortable to sit and lay on. Not as luxurious as my cat furniture, but that won’t fit inside the jail with me. Tish called me Princess Pinecone when I sat on the cushion for the first time. I approve of this name much more than when they called me Lamp. So pedestrian and unimaginative.
They take me out for little breaks. I may not run and jump like I am supposed to. Every time I try, they put me back in jail. I protest with meows often. This does me no good at all. Every time I am out, they put me back in jail. No matter how good I am. I thought they loved me more than this.
Today I went for another long ride in the noisy blue thing with Tish. Another visit to the vet clinic. She took me home right away, and to my utter dismay, she put me back into jail when we got home. I am thinking the only reason for vet trips are to make me sad. Things do not get better for me every time we go.
Tish says in five days we go back to the vet and if that visit is good, THEN I can get out of jail. I am not sure I believe her. This time in jail has left me with time to think. I am desperate for attention and escape. Yesterday Tish took me for a walk and let me hang out in the man cave window. Until I got too excited, then back to jail for me. Will this ever end? As I drift off to sleep, I am sending out another plea for my release. My silent protest is to turn my back to Tish and Roy. I hope to have better news next time, but dear Coffee House readers, if you are truly the Jazzy Fan Club, start a petition and get meowt!
Photo by Tish MacWebber
~Jazzy
A note from Tish:
The vet spayed Jazzy within the last two weeks. She is so active that she tore out her stitches and had an infection in the scar tissue. She has been to the vet four times and will go back on Monday, the day the Coffee House Writers publish this article. We are all hoping for a clean bill of health. She has not acted like she was in pain for any of the time since her surgery, and we have her in ‘jail’ to keep her calm so she can heal. Jazzy’s ‘jail’ is a kennel we borrowed from the SPCA where we adopted her from.
The vet spayed Jazzy within the last two weeks. She is so active that she tore out her stitches and had an infection in the scar tissue. She has been to the vet four times and will go back on Monday, the day the Coffee House Writers publish this article. We are all hoping for a clean bill of health. She has not acted like she was in pain for any of the time since her surgery, and we have her in ‘jail’ to keep her calm so she can heal. Jazzy’s ‘jail’ is a kennel we borrowed from the SPCA where we adopted her from.
The SPCA and vet clinic have been very understanding and helpful. I expressed my concerns about her activity level from the day we took her in for surgery, and after they put her to sleep the second time to clean out her wound and replace the stitches, a few hours later she was rolling in the cat carrier. I was in the back seat with her, and she was spinning in 360-degree circles in the carrier, with her cone of shame on. If she came out of sedation and pulled any of those tricks for the vet, then they would know I was right to worry about her activity level.
They tell me some kittens are like Jazzy, and the only thing that slows them down is being inside a kennel. Her worst problem in ‘jail’ is boredom, but she has everything she needs. She will be in rest and recovery mode until the vet gives her permission to be let loose. I fear the repercussions for Roy and me when she is free to be herself again. She has a lot of kitten left in her still, and will probably make up for her lost time the second she is free!
In case you were wondering…Jazzy is cone and jail free! Her vet visit went well. She ran herself silly when we got home and just went to sleep. She wore herself out! All good!