Sydney enjoys a calm 4th of July

One night back in August, my little friend Sydney didn’t come when I called her. Hunting mice on a warm summer night, I thought, and I went to bed. But she wasn’t on the patio in the morning, and she wasn’t anywhere in the backyard. I tried again in midmorning, and she came limping in from the neighbor’s yard.

I scooped her up and took her into the house. She didn’t act like anything was broken, even though she could barely walk; she let me poke and prod her all over without a single wince or growl. A sprain or sore muscle? I took her to the vet.

Nothing was broken, according the x-rays, and the vet didn’t have any suggestions but pain medicine.

I took her home and kept her inside, and a couple of days later she still walked like her hip was broken. She must have put her back out somehow.

Finding an animal chiropractor on the Internet is not as easy as it should be. The first page of my Google search brought up vets in Canada and Colorado, even with “Sacramento” as one of the search terms!

(Part of the blame goes to the lousy Web sites that vets and chiropractors have. That’s a subject for another time, but it really makes me mad that people sell over-priced half-ass Web site services. If people can’t find your Web site, you might as well not have one.)

Finally I found a couple of places. One was a 40-minute drive away. Sydney doesn’t like car rides. Forty minutes of listening to her yowl that she doesn’t want to go to rehab is too long for me. Another place focused on dogs and horses. Horses! My little Sydney is not a horse. I worried her little bones would break.

The American Veterinary Chiropractic Association has an animal chiropractic referral service that is updated three or four times a YEAR. (Can you believe that? What kind of service do they think they are offering to their members? Bah. Spit. Hint: Web sites need to be kept up-to-date at all times.)

I kept searching, going from link to link and adjusting my search terms, till I came across the Integrative Veterinary Center, which is just a 10-minute drive away. I’d driven past them before, even, but thought they were a lab or something.

So I found my kitty chiropractor. Turns out he is the horse chiropractor I found earlier, but he comes in one day a week to the Center near me. He does a wonderful job with cats. Sydney says she doesn’t mind getting a massage from him at all.

After four treatments Sydney is almost as good as new. She can jump up on the picnic table and garbage cans, just like she did before her injury. But her nighttime roaming is over. (The rats are celebrating.) She still has arthritis in one of her back legs; she’s 14 years old.

Oh! I’d forgotten what a pain Sydney is when she feels good. She is such a quiet, pleasant kitty when she’s sick or hurt. Now that she’s back to normal . . .

The story of Sydney and Tutone.

Well, it was getting dark and I just didn’t feel like dealing with it. I left it for the morning.

Got up this morning and checked the patio. No mouse barf!

Thank you, possum!

Every household should have its own possum. They make the best mess-disappearers.

The poor dead mouse lies cold on the concrete slab

The alleged perpetrator: Sydney, aka “Pooter,” a known thug and enemy of all rodents. Persons close to the alleged killer claim she is a member of the terrorist group the Minutekitties.

The alleged perpetrator of the mouse's untimely demise

Still quivering, but it was in no condition to escape. Made my stomach lurch to see it. Don’t look at the photos if you’re squeamish.

Sydney checks for witnesses.

I think we're alone now.

Crunch crunch crunch.

Mouse heads, mouse heads, yummy yummy mouse heads.

I found the rat Thursday afternoon. I’ll leave it for the possum, I thought.

The rat was still there Friday. Guess the possum wants it a little riper, I thought.

Saturday the rat started to stink. I made sure not to open the bedroom window, which opens to the lawn. Sitting on the patio wasn’t too bad, depending which way the breeze blew. There were probably maggots, but I wasn’t going to check. Tomorrow, I thought, tomorrow I’ll have to bury it.

Early Sunday morning I woke to the smell of rat, then went back to sleep. After my husband and I were both awake, I offered to toss a coin for the privilege of burying the rat. Lucky me! He had a brand-new shovel he wanted to try out.

He came back in a few minutes later. “The rat wasn’t there.”

Yum. Guess that possum was letting it age to perfection.

Sorry, no photos this time.

Sydney, 2002

That little gray cat is our newest addition to the family. He’s another abandoned cat who’s been sneaking into our garage to eat. It sure seemed like he must have a family because he’s so friendly and not scared of people at all, but no one else is feeding him.