Why The Contessa was mad

The Contessa is the cat I knew that was mine when I convinced the hubby to stop at the animal shelter some months ago. They gave her a clean bill of health, and they gave me an adoption fee.

We were told that her elderly owner had passed away and none of the family wanted Tessy.

I wanted her.

We’ve enjoyed the times she has crawled into our laps and chest to press faces – I’m sure to say thank you. On the other hand, she has not been very receptive to our stroking or petting her. Sometimes she has seemed angry.

Several times we thought something was wrong with her belly, but she wouldn’t let us roll her over and inspect it. This week the hubby said, “I’m taking Tessy in to see the docs, I just think something isn’t right.”

The “docs” are actually two semi-retired veterinarians who have added four young new ones to fill in the ranks. To those two ‘old’ docs we have trusted every dog or cat that has owned us before we ever met, and all during our soon to be 30 years together.

We were shocked by the diagnosis. Whoever spade Tessy (however many years ago) did not have the sutures removed. Tessy’s body has attempted to deal with the foreign material. The young woman vet told me that her body had only been able to alter the color of most of the suture material. Scar tissue of some sort had grown in and around the stitches. If indeed her previous owner was elderly, perhaps she didn’t understand that she needed to take her back to have the job finished. How much discomfort has this 8 year old kitty cat endured.

Last night she came home with shaved belly, new incision, new sutures and a sappy face (kitty drugs.) This morning the anethesia had worn off and she realized that she was different. I tried to get down on the floor and take her picture but she insisted on rubbing on the camera and rubbing on me. I pretended to do some housework and then snuck back and surprised her with a quick snap.

Don’t let her scowl fool you. She’s one delighted puss.