Jacky the cat has blown off the roof. We had been drinking on the roof terrace and decided to sleep there. In the middle of the night we were awakened by gusts of wind, moved to our real bed in our real bedroom and slept the sleep of the innocent.
The next morning, when my wife stepped out the door, she yelled that the cat was outside. Go Jacky, get inside. With my sleepy head I registered that Jacky was climbing the stairs very slowly. And what did that dirty beast have in her mouth again? Blood, bleach, and bits of flesh and bone. My internal alarm center went off, and oh poetry poetry come here oh dear, but she barely reacted. I called the vet: ‘Sorry, we’re full, cats have blown out of windows last night.’ I called vet number two: ‘Unfortunately, we all have cats that have fallen from roofs.’
Apparently every cat in town had blown away that night.
Vet number five said, “We’re full, but gosh, just come, we’ll see how we fit her in.” So you have those people. If you see bad people doing bad things on the news, just think about that.
The vet splinted, bandaged, disinfected, stabilized and took pictures, despite having to do this with ten more cats. She said that Jacky had to go to the hospital to have her head reconstructed. That I had to take considerable costs into account.
“But of course doctor, everything for Jacky, no problem.”
“Oh my goodness, well, count five or six thousand euros.”
…
‘Hello?’
“Yeah, sorry, I was away for a while. You said?’
“I asked if you had insurance for Jacky.”
“Haha, no, haha, who insures their cat?”
On my way to the animal hospital I called my wife, because the i-word had to be mentioned. But no, we couldn’t sell sleeping to the children. And besides, who had left the roof hatch and windows open? Not Jackie.
As I pushed the accelerator more and more, I decided that for six fucking thousand fucking euros I could expect a bionic cat who could cook and take out the garbage bags.
At the cat hospital, the intake lady said sorry, we are very busy with downed cats, it may be that Jacky has to stay overnight before we can operate. Cost: about seven hundred euros per night. But it might be cheaper at your own vet, she added hastily when she saw what was happening to my face at that moment.
The vet said, ‘Sure, kid, bring Jacky and we’ll keep her stable here. No, it costs nothing, we are there with all those broken pets.’
In my mind I forged a medal for this woman.
It went like this for a few days: I took Jacky to the hospital, people there thought they were too busy, and I took her back to the vet, who was actually too busy but was just a hero. Until she said: ‘You know what, Jacky is breathing normally, eating again, walking again, cupping again – what would we operate on her?’
It goes well with her. She has become a bit shy, but on the other hand we have enough money to lure her in with quality food every night.