Hundreds of Cat Testicles!

Today was spent at The Shelter doing their neuter-a-thon.

I busted my ass, and several hundred cats were neutered. The first hit the table at about 8, and by 1:15 or so, the last one came off. Hundreds and hundreds of cats.

I worked the Recovery, and that actually morphed into several chaotic jobs. I'd scoop up an unconscious kitty and whisk them off to their recovery room, where I'd lay them on top of their carriers with a microwaved rice pack to keep them warm. This went on for hours, while my partner and I switched off running cats, moving crates, and watching our own little group of recovering kitties. In each room it looked like the Heaven's Gate compound- you know, the people all lined up on bunks in their black Nikes, just waiting for the Mothership to beam them up or something. Terrible, but true.

I would check their breathing, make sure they stayed warm, pick them up and change their newspaper when they pissed on it (which many did), and rub them and flick their little noses to test for ones that were coming around. Then hurriedly shove a disoriented and usually aggravated kitty into a crate. And stack them back up again. Hours and hours this went on!

The assembly line was a model of very chaotic efficiency, and those little buggers would get lined up, drugged up, shaved up, neutered up, and shipped out to recovery in no time flat. It really was a sight to behold- tufts of fur flying everywhere, the occasional scuffle with someone who didn't want to be sedated or taken out of their carrier, people bustling around with limp cats in their arms, and then those little nutless wonders, all lined up like they drank the same Kool-Aid.

I am going to brag now. those of you that know me know that I am rather squeamish and will gag over just about anything. Well! I also had the dubious distinction of scrubbing instruments in addition to flinging around lifeless cats. Hmm. Well they weren't too terribly nasty, and I held it together when I would clean a gross instrument and drop it in the ultrasonic cleaner. Until I saw it- a Rogue Testicle. Somehow, a cat ball made it into the bin of used instruments, and then came to me. To wash. Oh. My. God. A Cat Ball. I didn't scream and cry and pick up an unconscious kitten to hide my face in like I would have liked. Nope, I just waited till no one was looking, and flicked that hemostat hard, and flung the nut into the trash. So of course I am not only proud that I was not bested by a cat testicle, but the doctors complimented me on my ability to drop off clean instruments on the table, whisk away the most recent victim, and return with clean instruments in no time flat. I was born to assist in the mass removal of testicles. I can tell; it's just a gift I have.

There were a few interesting kitties there. I was in charge of Satan Himself. That was the meanest little cat I have ever seen in my life! If other perfectly sweet but groggy kitties weren't stacked up around him, I would have kicked his carrier so hard his teeth would have rattled. He was horrible. there was also a hermaphrodite kitty! This one had one ball and part of a uterus. So if the final tally of balls removed is an odd number, that's why. And also, there were a few of the Hemingway cats, the ones that have like 7 toes per front paw. They were cute, but is sure was strange (and time consuming) to clip their claws.

Sorry I'm not funnier today. I have been flinging testicles and monitoring vitals and swinging cats around since about 7:30. I'm tired and going to take a long long nap.