Dealing with an intruder …
A mugshot of the intruder ... taken earlier ...
On Sunday we had an intruder in the office … and in my attempt to try and tackle him, I came off worst.
We have had a number of intruders in the past and I have come off worst in some of those other encounters … but this time the intruder wasn’t of the two legged variety, he was a rather healthy Siamese cat who had climbed through the fortichka, a little window used for ventilation, in the search for food.
We’ve seen him around the place quite a bit because he has taken a fancy to Mathilda, the black and white Queen that adopted us a few years ago.
Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t the only cat in the office at the time, and the others – all males – took offence to his presence and so he beat a hasty retreat behind one of the radiators.
... and when he was in a more relaxed mood!
In the past he has been shy and steered a course well clear of us but on occasion Mathilda’s calming influence has encouraged him to approach us and even allowed him to stroke him … although he has still been extremely nervous and bolted at the fist suggestion of any sudden movement.
Anyway, I left the window open and closed all the doors into the kitchen, (with all the cats on the other side), in the hope and expectation that in the calm the followed he would make his own way out. A couple of hours later, however, when it was time for me to pack up, turn on the alarm and go home for the evening … he was still cowering behind the radiator.
I managed to coax him out from the behind the radiator and he was sitting on the window ledge. I reached out and took hold of him firmly, one hand behind the neck and the other on his back. He twisted his head and lunged. I felt a searing pain as his fangs sank into the flesh of my hand, just behind the knuckle of the index finger. I let go and he sung his head once more, this time biting in to my wrist.
Apart from the pain, the gushing blood from two very neat and very deep puncture wounds, the shock was striking. The cat then jumped down from the windowsill and ran behind the kitchen sink. That was the last I saw of him because I was busy tending to my wounds … for all I know he could still be there … (after all, I wasn’t too eager for a repeat encounter) … but I don’t think so.
I also knew that I now had to wash the wound and stem the flow of blood, so I set about doing just that … first the soap and water … then the “spirit”, iodine and antiseptic cream … then a bandage from a roll of cotton lint. I had to get help, of course, to do the bandage as I couldn’t really apply it with just one hand. By now there was a distinct swelling and I felt a throbbing in the veins. Taking my shirt off to go to bed was also a bit of an ordeal.
Monday morning saw the next instalment in the saga.
I couldn’t remember when I last had a Tetanus inoculation, so I thought that I ought to go off to the polyclinic to get one and, when Lisa arrived for work, off we trotted. Now these clinics are usually quite crowded and this was first thing on Monday morning, so I was expecting a fairly long wait … but, as it happens, everything went relatively smoothly … except for the fact that the doctor said I should also have an injection against rabies.
To be honest, I had wondered about that … Most of the instances of rabies in Kyrgyzstan are to be found in the rural regions and amongst wild animals. Although the cat, as far as I can tell, is perfectly healthy, it is not a domestic pet … so it made sense and so I had the first in a course of injections … at least three and possibly six over the next the or four weeks.
That means – no alcohol and no saunas for the time being. The doctor seemed to think that might be a problem despite the fact that I tried to assure her that it wouldn’t be … I’ll let you guess whether she was thinking about the alcohol or the sauna.
.
I can’t help feeling a little stupid about the incident … I understand that he was scared stiff and I know that cats can be “wild” and dangerous.
Bishkek