Spaying Peyton

He and she had been collaboratively saving money to spay their seven month old bengal kitten, Peyton. It was Friday that the little cat went into heat for the first time. They had called the vet to inquire about their appointment that was scheduled the very next Friday to spay Peyton. Instead of postponing it, like they thought, the vet suggested they bring the cat in on the upcoming Monday.

If you have never had the chance to experience a cat in heat, they basically howl all day and night and insist on being pet at the price of getting their backside rubbed against you in an uncomfortable manner. Kitty, their soon-to-be three-year old bengal cat, grew tired of Peyton’s constant attacks, biting the kitten to let her know she needed to be in heat elsewhere. Though Peyton was more affectionate, they stood by their decision to spay her. It was the responsible cat owner thing to do.

Monday came, it was easy to get Peyton into the carrier, since she had no idea what was coming next. It was early morning, brisk and cold. The sound of Peyton’s cries travelled across his neighborhood, alerting her concern to those who would listen, as they loaded her into the car. The drive felt long. She had the carrier sitting on her lap as they drove, silent and tired.

This was a different vet than the one they usually brought their cats to, since the spay was cheaper. The long stretch of highway brought them to a rundown area. She saw a building covered in red painted letters stating, “Beef Jerky,” though the white paint surrounding it had chipped in many places, exposing the flesh of the wood.

“Please tell me that that is not the clinic.” She stated, only half kidding.

“It is.” He replied, though by the way in which he laughed it, she knew he was messing with her. The vet was, however, right across the street in a small white building with a matching white statue of what looked like a pope, mounted next to the doors. The first thing she noticed was lettering on the glass that read, “No drugs or cash are to be left on the premises.”

“Uh… What?” She laughed, reading the sign aloud. They had a moment where they sat joking back and forth until Peyton began to cry louder than they could speak. Peyton didn’t stop crying either, continuously meowing at full volume until they dropped her off and walked out, the door blocking them from the noise.

“I hope she’s okay.” He expressed with concern, though he got a call a few hours later confirming that she was.

Kitty cried all night, missing her only friend deeply. They thought that for once the sound of cat calls and crying would cease for a day while Peyton was away, but Kitty stepped up to the plate. He and she were excited the next morning to pick up their kitten. She was internalizing all the possible things that could go wrong once they brought Peyton home.

The vet described that they used staples, stressing that the kitten should refrain from any jumping or playing. They would have to bring her back in seven to ten days to get them removed. He was ready to look at the wound though she covered her face, not wanting to see the gore. Blood, needles, and wounds always freaked her out. Her mother, and even he, asked on several occasions how she would handle being a parent one day.

When the vet’s assistant went into the back to retrieve Peyton, he and she recognized her cries before they even saw her. The small kitten lay in the center of her carrier on top of her bunched up blue throw. The small mews followed them out the door and all the way home. Peyton was back alright, and she was just fine.

The following few days had been rough. Kitty wasn’t happy to see Peyton or the cone on her head that Kitty had worn when she got fixed. Every time the small kitten would approach, Kitty would hiss and growl. They were concerned at first, but decided to see what happened once the cone could finally be removed. He and she called it, “The Cone of Silence.”  Peyton’s energy was difficult to contain. How do you explain to a seven month old bengal that she can’t jump or play? It was what she thought parenting a toddler who just learned to walk would be like. They both concluded that it was going to be a very long seven to ten days, but they had each other to get through it.

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