Rascal Gets “Fixed”

Drop off was at 8AM.  Castration is day surgery, so I would retrive Rascal by 3PM.  The morning of the scheduled surgery, I bundled him into the cage, strapped the seat belt around him and proceeded to become very emotional (yes, I cried).  I took a deep breath and attempted to pull myself together.  I was a mess.  John happened to be leaving the house at that moment, observed my emotional state and offered to accompany us.

Ironically, I have assisted with literally hundreds of castrations. Every Saturday morning from the time I was in 5th grade, I would catch the 6:30 AM MBTA bus in Linden to my grandparents home on the other side of the city.  My grandfather, who was semi-retired, would begin at 7AM.  It was the same story every Saturday.  Every middle age woman who dropped off a pet would be bawling her eyes out. 

Once alone, Nana and I would laugh at these woman.  We would roll our eyes and wonder what they were so worried about!  It was such a simple operation.  At 10 or 12, I was confident that I could perform it myself without ever attending veterinary school (okay, so maybe not a hysterectomy – that appeared to be a bit more complicated).

My grandmother would moisten a giant cotton ball with ether and place it on top of a cylinder like contraption over the animal’s face, speaking softly to the little guy until he went under.  My “job” would be to hold the animals’ legs.  My grandfather would first drain the urine from the animal’s kidneys and then quickly perform the procedure. The animal would be “just fine” within a few hours…….

One Saturday, Grampa and I were in the operating room alone (Nana was upstairs instructing my siblings on the art of baking).  He was struggling to untangle a cat’s matted coat, with a giant metallic comb.  Suddenly, Grampa drew his hands to his heart, and withered back in pain.  He soon recovered; looked me in the eye and sternly said, “DO NOT tell your grandmother”.  I kept his secret.  He died that night.  I was in the 8th grade.

Not a memory that I wish to relive or discuss (except perhaps with my future therapist).  So, back to Rascal….

By the time we arrived at the animal hospital with Rascal, I had pulled myself together (somewhat).  I did remind them at least 5 times that he could not be given certain anesthetics.  I am certain they think I am neurotic.  

There are a number of anesthetics that are formally banned for use with the Devon Rex.

• Ketamine
• Imalgene
• Clorketam
• Zoletil
• Halothane

They reassured me that they would administer Propofol and Buprenex.

I worried all morning that I would never see my baby again; after what felt like an eternity, I finally got the call that it was over and he was ready to come home.

I was instructed “to keep him quiet” for a few days.   “I would try”, I said aloud,  thinking that it would be near impossible to keep this monkey-like creature “quiet”.

Earlier that afternoon (to make myself feel better) I had visited Four Your Paws Only and purchased a new toy for my poor baby – a feather on a spring that made bird noises when swatted.

When we arrived home, Rascal was acting crazy.  More crazy than his usual crazy.  He pounced on the new feather toy like he was a fierce cougar seeking today’s fresh kill.  I had a conference call at 4PM.  I locked him in my bedroom so that (1) he wouldn’t try to kill baby Jackson and (2) so he wouldn’t hurt himself; he was literally bouncing off walls.

An hour later, I returned to check on him.  He was nuts!  Every last grain of kitty litter had been “flung” out of the pan and now covered the carpet. The wicker toy ball that I had left in the room was literally torn to tiny shreds.  His focus had turned again to “killing” the feather.  

I quickly contacted Alfred, our vet.  I knew that there was a chance that Rascal’s personality might change after losing his “manhood”, but this was ridiculous!  Alfred reassured me that it was probably just a reaction to the anesthesia.  Alfred was right.  After 6 hours of “hellish behavior” Rascal was back to his “normal craziness”… and he has ignored the feather toy ever since!