I Stink

So, it turns out that Charlie had some sort of skin fungus (prolly ringworm...) when we adopted him. It showed up 2 weeks after he came to live with us. We got a topical antifungal from the adoption center and we were treating it with that, but in the past couple of days the infestation got way worse and the poor cat looked miserable. It was heartbreaking. So we went to the vet this morning, he shaved off the hair and scabs (majorly gross)(good thing I ignored my mom's wish that I attend vet school because guess who borderline passed out), and gave us this sulfur-lyme dip to bathe Charlie with every 5-7 days for the next two months.

The bathing process was amusing, we wound up mixing the dip in a cooler and dunking the cat in it out in the porch, and then we relocated him to the bathroom (no carpet or fabric and there is an air vent) to let him dry off. He's got one of those head cone things on to prevent him from licking the sulfur and getting sick.

The bizarrely adorable part of the whole thing is that little Charlie actually purred through about 90% of the ordeal, including the bathing part. Even the vet commented on what an incredibly good-natured cat he is! And none of us got clawed. I was pretty shocked.

Next we have to wash basically everything in the house, and locate a functional vacuum so we can clean the carpets. Ugh. (At the moment, though, Greg and I are at the library checking emails and writing blogs and whatnot. Other patrons are keeping a healthy distance - we stink!)

I got to thinking about the whole rescue phenomenon... The Pet Network actually informed us before we adopted him that he'd had an outbreak of ringworm, but they assured us that he was cured. For some reason we took their word for it and didn't do any research of our own, which in retrospect was kind of retarded. He was so cute and so sweet and he had been there for a while and we got totally swept into the idea of rescuing him, of being Superman and Superwoman and earning the undying gratitude and love of a big-eyed fuzzball. Reality hit us over the past few days, I mean what a presumptuous and stupid idea - we have carpet and fabric everywhere, the apartment is the perfect breeding ground for the fungus, and spores live for 2-3 years. We were almost going to take him back, we felt so overwhelmed by his misery and by the facts of the fungus. But, the vet was realistic and encouraging, and honestly his chances of getting cured by a shelter and then getting re-adopted to a "forever home" are slim to none, so there is no question now about giving up.

Rescuing is hard. It's not a caped crusader kind of thing, we aren't effortlessly giving a healthly happy cat the perfect home. But right now, hearing him purr and seeing his spirits lifted already make the sulfur, the cleaning, and the vet bill all disappear from my mind. And nose. Wish us luck.

Oh and guess what?!!? I got invited to join a BOOK CLUB!! With real-live people and FRIENDS!