A Case of Very Mistaken Identity

My tiny little kitten, the one we rescued from the animal shelter, has grown into a sleek but large kittycat. While we love darling little tuxedoed Kitty, all of us in the family have grown weary of being the scratching post for the animal’s long claws. Since Kitty is going to be an exclusively indoor cat, it was time to take her in for some declawing and spay.

I have two cardboard carrying cases with which to transport my little beast. Kitty must have sensed something was going to happen, because instead of climbing up my leg yesterday morning, as is her normal agenda, she was hiding. I went through the house calling her name, trying to get her to show herself. After ten unsuccessful minutes, I thought I might have to reschedule my vet appointment. Kitty, meanwhile, was stalking me as I was looking for her. She jumped out at me from behind a chair, and I almost fell over on her.

Soon enough, I captured poor Kitty and wrestled her into the larger cardboard carrier. Then I went to put my coat and boots on (it had only snowed six inches the night before). In that brief time, Kitty managed to chew a hole into the side of the box and made her escape. This led to another cat-and-mouse game where I looked for her (again) all over the house, unsuccessfully, I might add. After climbing two flights of stairs several times (with my coat on),  I was whipped. I sank into the chair again, and waited for Kitty to come out. She did, and with gusto. She tried to bite my foot. This time I lassoed her and put her into the smaller cardboard box. Although the box left little room for her to turn around, that aspect of it was a good thing in my eyes.

The vet is only a few blocks away, but Kitty managed to howl the entire time, even though I was trying to comfort her with my words. “There, there, Kitty… It’s not so bad! Please stop crying…” When I stopped the car, she stopped. Since there was a massive snowfall and it was a snow day, only one person was there at the vet’s office to open up. I bounded through the drifts of the unplowed lot, Kitty bouncing right along with me in her little shoebox of a crate.

Another patient, a big black Lab, entered at the same time, full of fun and loud barking. I freed the top of the box so Kitty could look out, but she stayed inside. Soon we were in an examining room, where I let Kitty out. Her back hair was sticking straight up and her tail was as big around as a corn dog. She was scared. I bid goodbye after going through the list of things they were going to do to her: blood tests, fecal swab, shots, and finally declaw and spay. Kitty was to be picked up on Saturday, and they would call after the surgery to let me know how it went.

Yesterday afternoon, the vet’s office called with good news and bad news. The good news was that Kitty had made it through the surgery just fine. The bad news is that Kitty is not a “she” but a “he.”

How this terrible mistake could have been made is beyond me. True, we didn’t know Kitty’s gender when we sprang him from animal control back in November, but Kitty has had not one but two visits to the vet since then. The doctor looked at him both times. Why didn’t she notice that Kitty was a boycat?

This leads to a big problem. We’ve been referring to Kitty with a girl’s name. Now we’re going to have to figure out a more masculine name for our little tuxedoed dude.

I hope he doesn’t suffer long term from this case of gender confusion.

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9 Responses

  1. Oh.

    What are you trying to do, give the poor cat a complex?

  2. You’re kidding!? I think the vet owes you a refund for not being observant the first two times.

    I think you should just call him “Dude”. He is a cool cat, after all!

  3. Oooohhhh.

    I hate to sound judgmental, but declawing a cat is kind of a bad thing to do to it. Kind of like amputating its fingers at the first joint. Clipping is a much better option, or putting claw covers over the cat’s claws. But most cats will allow clipping, if you start on them when they’re young.

  4. I know declawing sounds rough, but for the sake of the furniture, the drapes and my legs, I have to admit it’s something that must be done. I’m so squeamish, I can’t even clip my bird’s nails. Kitty (Dude) won’t be going outside at all.

    Maybe with the neutering, he won’t attempt to mark his territory anymore. I’m hoping…

  5. I’ve considered declawing but everyone says no! I figure if I had to, I could take them to the groomer to get them clipped. My son discovered claw covers. I don’t think I have the patience to even try to put those on. Clipping sounds best, to me.

  6. Both of our cats were declawed when we inherited them. I was glad because I don’t think I could do it. Everything in the house is neutered, however.

  7. Pandemonic, the decision to de-claw is a tough one, but I understand some cats shred more than others. If it makes you happier with kitty, then kitty will be happier. We all know you’re committed to keeping him inside and safe.

    Very strange the vet didn’t notice the gender confusion.

  8. Yeah. I’m wondering which veterinarian school she went to.

  9. […] bookmarks tagged mistaken A Case of Very Mistaken Identity saved by 9 others     hibiki2364 bookmarked on 02/15/08 | […]

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