It keeps getting better and better...

Remember my cat trauma? The evil cat who attacks the dog and refuses to back down? The cat who smacks my poor daughter out of the blue for no apparent reason? The cat who has been living for weeks in solitary confinement in our upstairs bedroom and office? The cat who can't be trusted not to be aggressive? We've been living a fairly peaceful existence lately while keeping the dog and cat separate. That all changed yesterday.

Ruanita called me at work in tears mid-morning. The dog had slipped past her into our upstairs office that is now solely the cat's domain. The cat, being the evil creature she is, immediately demonstrated her displeasure at the canine interruption. The cat attacked. The dog retaliated. After having endured numerous swats to the face and painful bites and scratches to the head over the past months, the dog no longer wants to play with the cat. Initially, she wanted to play. Now, she is out for blood. She has learned her lesson. The cat does not play. She is a serious aggressor and yesterday, the dog finally responded in like. When a six-pound cat and a forty-pound boxer get into a brawl, you can imagine who is going to be the likely loser.

Ruanita apparently screamed like a banshee and made several attempts to separate them. I am sure curse words permeated the air. A normal cat would have retreated behind the couch or up on the dresser or under the bed or into some other nook or cranny or high place where the dog could not reach her. My cat, however, is not a normal cat. She obviously does not grasp that she is out-sized and out-matched seven to one. She continued to attack.

Eventually, after several failed attempts, a lot of blood-shed, and a near nervous breakdown, Ruanita was able to separate the animals. When she called me in tears, we made the decision right then and there that the cat was gone. We can't live in fear of bloodshed in a house full of children. I told her that I would take the cat to the Humane Society and drop her off that very afternoon when I got home from work. Little did I know that you can't simply drop a pet off at the Humane Society anymore. You have to make an appointment to surrender your animal. There is a 45-minute long consultation in which your pet is examined and its adoptability is gauged. If it is determined your pet is adoptable, it will stay at the Humane Society until it is adopted. If it is determined that it is not adoptable (perhaps due to aggression issues?), you can take it back home with you or leave it there to be humanely euthanized. So I called and scheduled a surrender consultation for Saturday. We would just have to deal with the cat for two more days.

When I got home from work yesterday afternoon, I went upstairs to check on the cat. She was hiding behind the couch, still in an obvious state of distress. Upon examining her, I found that she had several open puncture wounds on her abdomen and was unable to bear weight on one of her legs. I immediately decided to take her to the emergency vet. No matter how evil she is, I don't want an animal to suffer for any time whatsoever.

As my vet did not have any available appointments, I drove to Eden Prairie to the nearest emergency vet. The cat was extremely sweet the entire way out there. She does not like the cat carrier, so I petted her through the wire door to try to calm her. She purred and rubbed against my hand the entire way there.

The vet immediately examined her and discussed options with me. I had secretly been hoping that she had internal injuries and would have to be put down. I know that is a horrible thing to hope for, but I truly believe she is not happy in her current situation. I know we are not happy with our current situation. And I doubt she will be a highly adoptable pet with her having shown extreme aggression toward other animals, and having bitten and scratched every member of my family on numerous occasions. So I thought the vet might be able to put an end to the situation for us.

No such luck. Molly's leg was not broken. She did have several deep puncture wounds. I discussed our situation in depth with the vet, who was extremely understanding. She explained that the concern with dog bites, as opposed to rather shallow cat bites, is possible crushing to internal organs. Molly was alert and active. By the time we got to the vet, she was bearing weight on her leg, though she did have a puncture wound to that leg. After a lengthy heart-wrenching discussions, we decided to do the minimal treatment for Molly and go from there, I didn't see the point in paying for exploratory surgery for a pet we did not plan on keeping.

$350 later, Molly was cleaned up, the areas around the puncture wounds were shaved, she received a couple of staples, and I was sent home with antibiotics, pain medication, and instructions to monitor her closely for any signs of complication (lethargy, refusal to eat, not urinating, etc). I drove home from Eden Prairie in rush hour traffic.

So...our appointment to surrender the cat on Saturday has been canceled. I can't exactly pawn off a traumatized, stapled, half-bald cat on the Humane Society. Talk about not adoptable! So until she fully recovers, she remains our pet. I have fallen into the role of her primary care-giver. Let me tell you, getting a syringe of medication into a pissed-off cat's mouth is no picnic! Two is even more fun. And her wounds, left open to ooze, are doing their job. Oozing all over the place. She is eating, though I have yet to see her drink or urinate.

I am not a heartless woman. Despite the bloodshed and trauma she has caused, I do feel incredibly bad for my cat. She can be sweet at times. I don't want her to suffer. I don't want her to be put to sleep. I am an animal lover at heart. I would like Molly to be adopted into a loving home. I am sure the perfect home is out there for her. One without other pets she can attack. Or small children. Or large children, for that matter. Really, a house without people might be the best option for her.

Until the time that a home is found, or at least until she is fully recovered and her hair grows back enough that we can put a positive spin on her for the Humane Society, she remains our pet. Our expensive, aggressive, borderline wicked pet.

Freaking lovely, huh?