It was one of our late nights at the vet so the appointment was after 5pm, when there were only three of us: myself, the doc/veterinarian, and an assistant. The client had a cat that had gotten into some sort of tussle with something else. It could’ve been another cat or some other wild animal but whatever it was bit poor Morris* all up. He ended up with all four legs shaved and pocked with red bite wounds all over his body.
The bad thing was Morris wasn’t vaccinated for rabies – or anything else for that matter and the owner knew it. She was in tears, well aware that the cat has two options: euthanasia or a six-month quarantine. The tears told me that euthanasia was the likely option unless we could figure out a way to quarantine the cat elsewhere because unfortunately she couldn’t quarantine him at her house. Worse yet, our technician – who usually helps out in these cases – was already taking care of one quarantined cat.
I called her any way, hoping there might be some way she could house two quarantined cats in her little outbuilding. Because none of us wanted to euthanize Morris, who pretty much purred through his shave down and treatment. He was way too nice to kill but unless he could be quarantined …curtains.
Luckily, two things happened to make this a happy story. First, he bit the doc when she tried to stuff a pill down his throat (no surprise there, I’d have bit her, too), which gave him a bit of a reprieve. That gave our technician time to work out a way to quarantine him, thereby saving Morris life.
We tested him for Feline Leukemia and FIV (Feline AIDS, and no you can’t get it), gave him a rabies vaccination, and neutered him the next day. Ten days later he went to our tech’s outbuilding where he’ll live for six months. Then he’ll go back to the lady who brought him to live happily ever after.
* and yes, I swear he looked just like the original Morris, with a fat happy face and personality to match (we're not counting the nibble; he was under duress).