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I adore my cats.  (I know this is news.)  All four of the current overlords were adopted as adults from shelters, which means they each came with foibles.

When I lost my Lacey (who predated Mr. Spoon and was 17) in 2013, we *immediately* set about adopting a new princess.  (At the time, we also had the long-haired overlord and Prince Canine.)  I was looking on petfinder (dot com) and I found a most striking calico about four hours away.  Distance being no object, I insisted I wanted *that* cat.  We went to the shelter.

She was actually bonded with another kitty.  No problem.  I wanted them both - I would never separate a bonded pair, and my heart was set.

So we came home with the two girls, Savannah (the calico) and Darryl (who looks tabby mostly but is a dilute calico.)  I knew that the shelter had described them as shyhearts, but I didn't realize they were essentially feral.  They had never lived in a home - they had lived their entire lives in the shelter - and they were not really socialized to humans.  For about the first month, they stayed in only one room, and I would go and sit with them and just let them get accustomed to us.

One of the funniest things that happened is the closet in that room had sliding doors.  I would close them.  Then I would go back in and find the door ajar and the cats in the closet.  DH and I peeked in and found the two of them tag-teaming to get the door open just enough to sneak in.  Mister Spoon correctly observed that they had a future as cat burglars!  A closed door is definitely just a challenge to be overcome for Darryl.

The first veterinary visit was traumatic for all of us.  Just getting them into the carrier was an absolute circus.  Then, the vet said he thought they were both older than we had been told.  (We thought they were four - he estimated maybe double that.)  They needed dental care.  

A few weeks later when we took Savannah back for her dental procedure - we got the worst news of all.  Her blood levels were seriously elevated and she had kidney disease.

Nine months after we adopted her, we lost Savannah.  I was heartbroken - not just for myself, but for Darryl.  They were so closely bonded - they slept together, snuggled together . . . I was afraid Darryl would die of a broken heart.

We adopted two more kitties (the Hunter and the elusive Fourth.)  Part of my reasoning was that other cats acclimated to each other might be more accepting of a cat accustomed to cat life, not family life.  And we loved on Darryl (on her terms, of course.)  I'm pretty good at kitty headbutts - her favorite greeting.  She is pretty tolerant of pets now, and likes to sit and snuggle alongside, but she is still relatively unwilling to be held.  In fact, we have used heavy duty gloves (like the gloves for raptor handling) to catch her several times. Orally medicating her is pretty much out of the question.  

She hasn't really bonded with any of the other kitties the way she did Savannah.  But a couple times I've seen her backing into a spot so that she is near or against a sister.

And I think she's decided I am a big, hopeless, hairless cat.  

She's been losing weight this year.  She's seen the vet a number of times.  She *does* have trouble getting food into her mouth, but I'm not sure that's the only problem.

So in the morning, she will go have dental work done.  And, even though we did labs on her a couple months ago, my anxiety is sky high.  This is the second time she's had teeth removed - most of them came out last time - but I want a good outcome for her.

So here I sit - worrying and fretting - wanting her to be healthy and content, but recognizing I don't get to control that.

*sighs*  Sometimes, things are hard.

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Hoping for a painless positive outcome. She is lovely.

     I always think of the Newhart show with Larry, Darryl, and Darryl when I hear the name Darryl.

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I'm hoping for the best outcome possible for Darryl. She's precious. <3

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Me too.  This is the hard part.  Even if it turns out fine for Darryl, the stress is still hard... Thinking good thoughts for her and you.

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Thanks, guys.  They had quite a list for surgeries today, so I am trying to be patient.

One of the other fur moms was staying there (people have to travel to get to a vet here) and I joked about doing the same.  They would certainly have tolerated me (but it makes no sense because we live right down the road) but I think my anxiety energy would have been harmful.

@Grimalkin  She came as Darryl.  (And I've spelled it a couple different ways depending on my mood.)  It causes some confusion about her gender.  To be honest, though, around here she is Demon or DD.

I wish you guys could have seen her the first time she was cornered and scared.  @Kailash  Let's just say she was *not* precious.  She can hiss, spit, and bite with the best of them.  She's my feisty girl and hence the Demon label.

(And if I remember correctly, that's also how she got the CAUTION label on her chart at the vet's - last time she had dental work, she caused grievous bodily harm here at the house (literally blood liberally around the bedroom) and then bit someone there.)

I did a card for her this morning - Name - Caution - SHE WILL BITE and then a list of concerns.  Thankfully, the people at the vets know me and put up with me.

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Hope it all goes well.  Darryl/demon is lucky to have been adopted by a caring cat lover.

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