And yesterday was one of the worst. It all started around 9pm on Sunday night. Klickitat, our felonious feline, wanted to go outside. She's been an avid outdoor enthusiast for the last five years or so, every since we bought our first house and she had a yard to prowl. Since we've moved to Boulder and now inhabit a second story condo, she's been much less interested in exploring the outdoor world. Too many people, cars, and just general noise and Klick is only brave when it comes to beating up other cats. Consequently, she's stayed pretty much indoors since we've lived here, with the occasional five minute foray out onto the patio to do some sun-worshipping or dirt-bathing, her two favorite hobbies (besides, as mentioned, beating up other cats).
Sunday evening, I let her out and, much to my shame, completely forgot about her. It wasn't until I got up the next morning that I realized I'd left her out all night. Of course, when I opened the door, she was nowhere to be found. Yikes!
She's not much of a wanderer, so I figured she'd be close-by and come running as soon as she heard us calling her. No such luck. Finnegan and I did multiple walking and driving circuits around the neighborhood all day long, but she never showed up. When it got dark, I really started to get worried. I figured the final thing that would bring her out of wherever she was hiding would be hunger, but even that wasn't the case.
That describes yesterday's early events, and we'll come back to that. But now, I'll describe the trauma Finnegan also experienced.
On our daily walk around the lake, Finnegan was haplessly enjoying his usual game of chasing the tennis ball into the deep grass and bounding along like he's Laura Ingalls Wilder. Shortly after arriving at the lake, he went for a long pass and then immediately jumped a few feet in the air and bee-lined, no pun intended, back towards me, shaking his head and scratching one ear madly. He'd obviously been stung, a first for him. For the next hour he pawed and scratched and shook and rolled, all in an effort to mitigate the pain his poor head was in. Nothing ever swelled up so I couldn't tell exactly where the sting was. Tragically, his ball was lost.
As if that wasn't bad enough, as evening rolled around and we all went for another spin around the neighborhood to look for Klick, a truly evil wasp latched onto Finnegan's back leg and hung on, stinging him somewhere between 3-5 times before he could shake the thing. I've never seen an animal in so much misery. The poor guy was shaking and limping and essentially trying to bite his own leg off from the pain. That lasted for a couple of hours until he exhausted himself.
In case this ever happens to your dog, here's what you should do. First, look for a stinger and try to scrape it out with something flat, like a credit card. Then, besides being on the lookout for anaphylactic shock, which will present as labored breathing and massive swelling, give your dog 1mg of Benadryl / pound of body weight. You can also make a paste of water and baking soda and apply it the wound to help alleviate some of the sting. Ice will also help if you can get the puppy to sit still.
Finn went to bed early, too upset and hurt to bother with it anymore. We agonized and worried more about Klick, our fears growing more pronounced as the night wore on. Finally, we went to bed and decided to leave the front door cracked in case she showed up. I woke up a couple of times and looked around the house, but no kitty.
An eardrum-splitting caterwauling woke us up at 4:30am and we leapt out of bed as if we'd been stung like Finn. Klickitat was outside our bedroom door, and yes, she was upset! Finally, somehow, she'd managed to get herself home. She was covered in dirt and oil. Strangely, despite still wearing her collar, which is the breakaway safety kind, her tags were gone. You can imagine the relief Jer and I felt.
Physically, she is just fine. Mentally, she's exhausted and skittish. It's impossible to say just what happened to her, but it seems as if she probably crawled into a car's engine compartment and her tags got wedged. She probably spent the whole day trying to free herself. I can't imagine how traumatic that must have been for her.
The happy ending is that everyone is fine today. There was much rejoicing when the tuna was broken out in celebration, and Finn finally ate his own food (which he wouldn't touch yesterday, apparently out of concern for the kitty). And yeah, I learned a lesson about letting our cat out.
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All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
