D-Day

Since Day 1 of acquiring my kittens, the objective has been to adapt them to the outdoors.  Being in the country, I've had to wait until they were big enough to sort of defend themselves.  The Vet suggested approximately 5 months old, which conveniently coincides with the perfect time for spaying.  He also advised a gradual exposure to the outdoors at increasing doses.  Easier said than done.  They are terrified of stepping foot out the door.  Well....Stella is getting a little braver, but clearly prefers the safety and warmth of the house.

We'll just enjoy the outdoors from the indoors...thank you very much.

Today, they were both spayed.  I dropped them off on my way to work and picked them up on my way home.  Correction.  I picked Stella up.  Sophie, my cuddly, affectionate, loving ball of fluff shall now be called, "Sybil."  Everyone in the animal clinic--staff, patients and owners--were horrified at the sounds coming from the back room.  She went ballistic if someone even looked at her.  Um.  Let's just leave her here overnight.  No charge.

They gave me all the post-op instructions.  Pain meds for the next two days.  Offer food and water tonight, but don't be surprised is she doesn't eat.  Give her a warm, quiet place to stay.  Okay.  I think I've got it.

As soon as we got home, Stella went right to her food dish and chowed down.  Then she found her favorite "tiger tail" and played awhile.

She's now resting comfortably in my lap, purring away.  Tomorrow morning we'll pick up Sybil Sophie and try it again.