Sophie Has Left the Onesie!

I know you're going to remember that my precious little girl, Sophie has been having skin issues on her tummy resulting in her overgrooming the area and her having to wear the cone of shame and then be mercifully transferred to a onesie. 

Before I go into Sophie's exciting (recent) adventure, let me paws (hahahaha!) to tell you about Breaking Cat News a webcomic by Georgia Dunn - it's about her three cats, and other hangers on, as they have news updates about the odd comings and goings of the "People" in their life.  I've found this comic recently, and I cannot express how much joy it gives me.  The other day I was reading the back catalog of comics and I came across this one that was pretty much on topic re: today's topic, (i.e, Sophie).  Enjoy.  (Oh, the white cat is Lupin, the black cat is Puck, and Elvis is the Siamese in the cone.)

Of course one of my concerns about Sophie being in the cone of shame, and then the Onesie, was the ridicule she would receive from her housemates.  Myself included.  She was darned funny in that cone!  I tried to get video of her loping around the condo like a drunken sailor, but I was laughing too hard, and the lighting conditions in the condo that evening were not conducive to producing viral-quality video. 

Anyway, back to the present.  Over the summer, my baby's poor little belly would get better and then get worse.  We went to the vet again during one of the flare-ups, and the doctor basically said this condition - eosinophilic disease - is chronic and she may fight it for the remainder of her life.  As to the instant problem, though, we either deal with it, or we have surgery to remove the area. 

After almost losing her five years ago, I took out a pet insurance policy on Sophie, so the cost would be minimal (assuming insurance paid).  Also I figured the stress and trauma for a finite amount of time for surgery would be less than the stress and trauma of us continually having to nab her and shove her in and out of the Onesie and spray the stuff on her little area.  Plus, if we went ahead and had her surgery, she could recupe and be (sort of) back to normal for Emily when she comes over and cat/condo sits for us at the end of the month when we go to the beach.  I mean, she's being gracious enough to watch the cats for us, the least we could do would be to not make her deal with Sophie and the Onesie!

So the surgery was on!  But first she had to get over the immediate flare-up.  Once that spot cooled down, we had our surgery.  A couple of months ago, I read online about this vet's office that would send a text (with picture) to the owner from the pet once it was out of surgery.  I thought, oh, that's nice!, never thinking that anyone in our house would be having surgery.  While Sophie's vets office did not send me a text or a pic, they did call me to let me know she was out and doing fine, which I thought was very nice.

The surgery was on a Friday.  We chose that day because then I could be home to monitor her over the weekend.  We quarantined her in the upstairs bedroom, and I slept up there with her.  I don't think Gizmo - her litter mate/main source of stress (as only siblings truly can be) - fully understood why not only was I sleeping in a totally different room, but I'd shut him out.  He slept (and tossed a hairball in protest) on the carpet outside the upstairs bedroom door.  I only gave her pain meds Friday night, and then again Saturday morning, mostly to help her sleep and rest, so I could sleep and rest!  I can't afford to have my cat become a drug addict any more than I can afford for me to become one!  Plus, it's just not easy getting oral meds down a cat's throat!  I have the scars to prove it!

The weather that Saturday and Sunday was perfect and when we weren't doing other higher priority stuff, me and the kids were on the balcony lolling in the sunshine.  (Not that the kids ever have higher priority stuff!)  Sophie joined us Sunday, even sleeping in my lap. 

She got her stitches out last Friday, meaning that she could once and for all exit the Onesie!  I told mom that I'd gotten so used to seeing her in cammo that I wouldn't see her when I'd look into a room or  wherever.  Of course, she is solid black, so even in daylight, she blends in with shadows and such.

We now seem to have gotten over our surgery.  Basically she had a little tummy tuck, they used the skin from that floppy area left over as a result of when she was spayed to cover the area they removed.  I'm gonna miss that wobbly bit, though.  It was always so cute swaying in the breeze as she'd jog down the hallway.  Sigh.  Now, though, I can look forward to the beach without the guilt of leaving her!  (Yeah!)