Did this young lady get into her mom's yogurt, which mom had carefully placed up on the dinner table while she had to leave the room for a moment? The evidence is undeniable. I have taken to calling her "Legion." Actually, of course, she's considerably less demonic now than when she joined us early this year.
She's already managed to get herself snakebit this summer, probably by a cottonmouth. It didn't make her very sick. Our nextdoor neighbors' cat was struck by a rattlesnake on Labor Day, occasioning a frantic trip in to Corpus to the emergency vet, where they specialize in wildly expensive treatment for customers (like me) who are devoted to their animals beyond the point of financial good sense. The local vet doesn't even carry antivenin, and had in fact told us that it wasn't available for cats. Wrongo! It costs a bloody fortune, but you can get it. They gave the cat a three-day fentanyl patch, if you can believe that. I agitated for one of those for my poor aunt in the nursing home for six months before I got it. Fentanyl, the king of pain relief, is orders of magnitude beyond morphine.
But I must say, within a few days the swelling had disappeared. The cat appears to have dodged all of the truly horrifying effects you often see with rattler bites, like necrosis. The effects of an untreated rattlesnake bite are something I wouldn't wish on anyone, and I take this opportunity again to trumpet the virtues of inexpensive rattlesnake vaccine for your dogs. (I gather there isn't a vaccine for cats. Or people.)
Update a few moments later: That's our erstwhile glass coffee-table top you see in ruins there. OK, so maybe she's not really that much less demonic.
By Texan99 on Sunday, September 09, 2012