I brought Baxter in to get his testicles off and clean his teeth. I cried, knowing that this was so like the life he had just had - vet techs circling, holding down, shots, intubation, woozy awakening pain.
they tried to put a collar on him but he freaked. the more he freaked the more i freaked. i bought a different one - sort of a life preserver - but that was no better. i was angry, though it wasn't really their fault - this was protocol supposedly so he didn't aggravate the wound - and finally the vet came out and we agreed if i stayed with him constantly to patrol his scar-licking we could forgo it. (turns out he isn't a scar licker and the whole thing was unnecessary.)
Nerves frayed i took him home. he was woozy, tipsy, kept sitting and almost falling over. i wanted him to lie down but he didn't. probaby was dizzy. the only thing that perked him up were the cats. in fact they could tell he was offbalance and not as eager and so they were braver, closer and i hoped for a cat kiss but no. Baxter seemed to get worse not better, throwing up water, unable to walk straight, looking sick and sad and it tortured me. I lost my shit when I couldn't pain pill him. my mom and wendy had to calm me down and finally wendy said this is about you in pain not him in pain. Which was probably true. I slept with him at night and he got up twice to gag and throw up though first thing in the morning he seemed much better, though i called the vet anyway. All i could think of was if he suffered so much under anaesthia today what living hell was his life in a lab like??? Perhaps this was why his last "experiment" according to his lab papers, was 2011.
Now ball - less with gleaming teeth, I am curious as to his personality.
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