My name is Melissa and I live in South Carolina. I have two grown
daughters and 3 beautiful grandchildren. During the AM rush to work
yesterday, I noticed the cars ahead of me veering around something in
the center of the road. I assumed it was an empty box or a random
tennis shoe, but when I got closer, I realized it was a cat – curled up
with his feet tucked under him. He looked like he might be lying on a
couch. I turned left into a parking lot and wheeled around to go check
on him. By the time I got back, a police officer had stopped, picked
him up by the scruff of his neck and was setting him a little ways onto
the grass at a condo complex. I turned into the complex and rolled down
my window. “Is he alive?” I asked. “For now” he replied. I thanked
him for stopping and walked over to the cat. He had a little blood on
his mouth and couldn’t walk. The sound of the cars was scaring him, but
I guess he figured I was the lesser of the evils he was facing. I
stooped down and gently began to pet him. I couldn’t leave him there,
but had no way to transport him and started knocking on condo doors to
hopefully find the owner. Nobody had ever even seen the cat before. As I
was walking back, I saw that the police officer had come back by. “I
realized you were still here. I’ll take him to the vet just up the
street.” I thanked him and left. I called the vet’s office and told
them the officer was on his way with the injured animal. “He doesn’t
seem to be critically injured and I’ll take him if you’re going to
euthanize him otherwise, but I can’t afford to spend a fortune on this
cat,” I told her. “What’s his name?” she asked. His name? What?
Ummmmm… “Bob” came out.
Bob is my “go to” name when I
tell a story. “I worked with a guy who dyed his hair blue… what was his
name? I’ll just call him Bob…” or “A friend of mine dated a man who
just moved into your neighborhood, but I can’t remember his name… anyway
let’s just say it’s Bob.” I would like to blame his name on my lack of
creativity so early in the morning, but apparently I’m just not very
clever in general.
After giving her my required Visa
card number, she promised to have the vet call me. Bob. I just named
a cat Bob… Bobcat. Ha! I had a little laugh with myself. But all I
could think about was the only money in my account was already spent on
bills. “Even if it’s not expensive and they give me a break for being a
“nice” person, how am I going to pay for this?” I wondered. I am my
sole financial provider. I don’t make a lot of money. I, like most
people, live paycheck to paycheck. About an hour later, the vet called
to say they would have to do x-rays to determine the damage and because
he was not very happy they would need to sedate him. That’s
understandable so I gave my permission. What else could I do?
“He
seems to be in overall good health,” the doctor said later. “But he
does have a broken pelvis and a few contusions I’ll need to stitch up.
He appears to be fairly well taken care of, but probably a neighborhood
cat. I doubt he has an owner, but I could be wrong. Also, he hasn’t
been neutered and I imagine that’s something you’ll want to take care of
later. He’ll need to be confined to a pet carrier for about a month
and the pelvis will heal on its own. Right now, we’re giving him IV
fluids and some non-steroid medication for inflammation. I know you’re
footing the bill here so I just wanted to let you know we’re at $505.00
right now. We’re going to keep him overnight and I’ll call you
tomorrow.” I thanked her and got off the phone. $505.00 might as well
be a million…
I called my daughter and told her the
story. God always gives me needy cats so this one came as no great
surprise to her. “I have no idea how I’m going to pay for this, but God
knows I don’t have the money and He also KNEW I would stop and take
care of this cat!” “He has a plan Mom. Don’t worry!” she replied.
Wise woman I raised. I also told a friend at work about my
situation. “I named him Bob.” She gets it because she knows me so
well. “He’s Bob. Bobcat.” We both laughed. “We’re at $505.00 right
now, but he’ll also have to be neutered so that’s even more money.”
Pause… “I guess he’ll be Bobbitt after that!” We both nearly fell to
the floor laughing.
This morning I got the update on Bob
(still his name, no snipping yet). He’s running a low grade fever and
they’re starting antibiotics. Good news is he doesn’t have feline
leukemia, HIV or any other cat aliment. Bad news, more money.
I
know this is not the big news of the century and certainly not the most
worthy cause in the world. But I don’t have the $1,000.00 + it’s going
to cost me to take care of this animal. Another friend suggested I
set up this account. You have no idea how much Bob and I would
appreciate it! God Bless!
If you can help, click
here.