(Disclaimer: while this is a true story, it involved a cat that was not my own. Primarily this is for the occasional story of something involving my own cats, occassionally I may drop in a blog about something involving a different cat. As I will now explain one....)
If there's one thing that people hopefully know of me, its that I am an animal person. Have been ever since,...well...whenver, I guess. But approaching my birthday in June of 2004 I was trying to think of how I wanted to spend my birthday that Friday. One of the things that came to mind was volunteering at the local animal shelter. Something I had been wanting to do for some time, but just never got around to it. So I made it my plan to volunteer that morning.
(On a side note, that day which was actually the day before my birthday on that Thursday was when I first volunteered. It was also unfortunately memorable as it was the day that a relationship I had been in with someone ended that same day. So on the same day, a day before my birthday, I began what would become regular volunteer work while something else dropped out of my life. Go figure...)
Skipping most of the backstory and other tales, I'll skip ahead to the one day that this entry is truly about. I was in the process of cleaning one of the adoption cat rooms that had become my staple. Open up the cage, let the kitty (or multiple kittens, depending on the cage) out, they exercise and run around and do whatever cats do while I clean the cage, set it back up with a blanket and food and water and litter box, and then finally return the kitty to the cage. Things were going along until I got to this cage of the cat that would become known as Damien.
(For the record, I was the one who gave him the name but I can not remember positively if this was before or after the following incident.)
Damien was just being his regular playful self that I had not had any problems with in the days or weeks before since he was moved up front to the adoption room from the holding room out back. When I reached down to pick him up and put him back in his now-clean cage, I apparently caught him at the wrong moment. Call it that frightening surprise that animals and even people encounter where they're suddenly surprised and the reaction is fight-or-flight. Damien, well, he wanted to fight.
Immediately he began the low growl that indicated he was very, extremely ticked off. Holding him carefully I was attempting to put him back in his cage when he became increasingly aggitated. Fearing he would turn around and attempt to slash me with his claws or bite me, I took the initiative to hold him right up close to me. Heck, its something obvious you learn watching MMA bouts on television where they get the opponent close enough to them that they don't have the room to offer up any offense. So that's what I was doing here - avoiding the chance for the cat to go on the attack. In response, he dug his claws into my sweatshirt I was wearing.
Dilemma, dilemma. I had my right hand that was free now holding onto the back of the neck to control him, but he was not letting go of my sweatshirt. Only way I could pull him off would be to expose my vulnerability and give him the opening for an attack. I ended up making the wrong decision....
As soon as my right hand let go of the scruff of the back of his neck, he immediately wanted to fight whatever it was that was holding him. So he whipped around as I held him in my left arm and went after it. My right hand.
Basically what he did was latch his paws around my wrist and forearm, back paws came up and latched into my arm as well, and he began to bite at what he could. Which was my middle finger. (Go figure!)
Immediate and intense pain. All I will say about this is that it felt like tons of tiny hooks going into my skin and wanting to pull it right off my arm. I was finally able to get him off my arm despite the pain that was increasing. Seeing as how I could not pick him up in this state, I intended to leave the room to get the control gloves that they keep at the shelter out back for the problem animals that are difficult to deal with. What was strange is that as I backed out of the room across the floor...Damien was legitimately stalking me across the room. It was though I was a tiny mouse that he was going in for the kill. This cat was pissed off.
Unable to even get the control glove on because my right hand and lower forearm was both in pain and bleeding heavily, I had to get one of the employees to go in and put the cat back in his cage. So the guy took the glove for me, told me to take care of my arm, and he went to put the cat in the cage. The "higher ranking" employee that was in, immediately came and found me in the bathroom as I was washing off the blood and heavinly INSISTED that I go to the ER immediately. They would finish the cat room for me and I should go right to the hospital. Which I did.
As long as the hospital wait was in the ER, it went simply like this. Police officer showed up to take a statement as it was "an animal bite" - something that has to be reported to the police, waited for a long time, and as soon as the actual doctor came into the ER room I was stashed in he took no time in barely looking at my hand in determining it superficial wounds that he would just bandage up. ARE YOU ****ing KIDDING ME? My hand and right arm hurt like hell and it was covered in scratched including a few deep wounds!! So in the end I was sent home with a heavily bandaged right hand and lower forearm.
I was actually scheduled to work that day, so after leaving the ER I went to work to let them know I wouldn't be able to make it in. The boss at the time Liz wasn't in yet, so I waited till she arrived. As I told her the quick version of what happened, she began to smile and almost laugh - and so was I. After it all happened, it was almost comical to think of how crazy this cat had behaved. Although the injury I was dealing with was telling a slightly different story.
Because of the attack, Damien was put into quarantine for cautionary measures. Even though he had attacked me as such, I tried to stick up for him with the shelter manager in hopes that he might get a chance. But in the end I had to concede, that if he did this to me....I wouldn't want him attacking a little child like this and potentially do more damage. So he was eventually put down. But it makes for a point that can relate to other aspects of life. One person's experience with the cat could have been a terrific one with him acting very lovable and an awesome little cat. (he was about a year old, by the way.) He could have been a total sweetheart the rest of his life and never acted like this again. But I unfortunately was the one who experienced his attack and desire to cause and inflict pain on me. Did I have confidence that he also had a sweet side? Sure did. But it was unfortunate that I was only able to experience this case of him acting negatively. None of it made him a sweet cat or a bad cat. Other volunteers could have had different experiences in handling him, or even if someone were to have adopted him. But animals are unpredicatable. And as much as I attempted to be friends with this little cat, he just didn't feel like it. Which is too bad. :(
So how did my injury go? It was fine for a day or two until it looked like it was going to need further treatment. What ended up happening is that I would require a series of doses of IV antibiotics. I opted for the option of....(squirm)....having an IV inserted into my right wrist that they left in and taped to my arm. Then once a day for the following WEEK...I went into the ER, was sat down by a machine, which over the course of 60-95 minutes slowly pumped antibiotics into my bloodstream. Let's just say that having an IV left in in the spot on my right wrist where it was.....was DIFFICULT and PAINFUL to endure. All in all, that was more painful than the actual attack by the cat!
This story was entirely true. Shelter employees can back it up, the police report on the animal bite exists, the medical records are there, and Liz could confirm that one day I came into work and showed her my bandaged up right hand and forearm and explained the quick version of this same story.
Not a very pleasant story by any means. And it goes to show that you have to be very careful to not startle animals.
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