When we got our cat, Velvet, the shelter told us her story. She'd belonged to a family that got a dog and apparently decided they didn't want a cat anymore. They tossed her outside and stopped feeding her, so she wandered through the neighborhood trying to get into people's houses. By the time a kind-hearted neighbor finally took her to the shelter, she was malnourished and parasite-ridden. She lived at the shelter for seven months before she came to live with us, so her life was definitely anything but pleasant until recently.
Upon her first trip to the vet, he estimated that she was about six years old, and he strongly recommended that we have her teeth cleaned because she'd already lost some teeth and the others were pretty grotty. I finally saved up the money (it's expensive because they do blood work and x-rays and there's anesthesia involved) and took her in yesterday.
She did NOT want to let me put her in the cat carrier. I imagine that a once-abandoned cat is probably even less amenable to vet visits than the average cat. I managed to stuff her in without having to wake up my husband, but it was touch and go there for a while.
They cleaned her teeth and removed a small growth from beneath her eye. The procedures went fine and I picked her up after work. She was still a bit groggy when I got her home, so I planned to confine her in my dressing room with food, water and a cat box until she shook off the effects of the anesthetic. So much for that plan. She made a beeline for the basement and crawled up into the ceiling the instant I opened the carrier.
It didn't help that Xena acted as though she'd forgotten who Velvet was in the nine hours she'd been gone. She got all brushy-tailed and hissy and "Stranger! Danger!" as soon as I brought the carrier in. Sheesh.
All evening long I kept trying to figure out exactly where Velvet was in the basement ceiling, but I couldn't see her anywhere, even with a flashlight. Our ceiling is partially sheetrocked, but large portions of it have been removed for various remodeling projects. It's the best hidey-hole a cat could ask for.
I finally spotted her this morning and got her to look at me. I gave her a catnip toy to try to wake her up a bit more and eventually she came upstairs and ate. Xena and Velcro both stared at her evilly as if they'd never seen her before.
I hoped she'd stay upstairs and either go to sleep in our bed with my husband or lie in her window hammock, but she decided she needed to hide in the basement some more. Poor kitty.
I predict that everyone will settle down today and be back to normal by this evening. I'm leaving for work and my husband's asleep, so the cats will have to work things out on their own.