Cat 1, Washing Machine 0



Nicky (look up high)
one day before his "incident"

I have really debated whether to write about our latest family "adventure", because it's really pretty horrible, but it's also miraculous.  So miraculous that I've finally come down on the side of sharing.  So here goes.


On Friday morning, I woke to the sound of Mike freaking out in the other room.  I mean, completely losing it.  I jumped up and ran in the living room and met him halfway across the living room.  That's when he said the words that I suspect will haunt us for years -- "I washed the cat in the washing machine." 

I swear on my life that every word here is true.  Unbelievable, but absolutely, 100% true. 

As is his usual routine, Mike got up at about 5:00 to go to the gym and decided to throw a load of clothes in the washer before he left.  In a hurry, he didn't bother to turn on the light.  He just opened the washer, tossed in the clothes, added detergent, and left for the gym.

After getting home about an hour and a half later, he opened the washer and heard a moan.

That's when it hit him what had happened, and he lost it.  The cat had crawled in the washer and gone to sleep sometime during the night.  Mike never saw him.

When he said to me that he had washed the cat, I immediately assumed he had found the cat's body.  We both ran to the laundry room and he began throwing wet clothes on the floor.  Then I saw Nicky laying in our front-load, completely still, eyes open, and crying.  Mike later described the sound as a death moan.  I think he is probably right.

I called the vet who directed us to an animal hospital that is fortunately only a couple of miles away.  Mike wrapped Nicky in a towel and drove him to the kitty ER.

About an hour later, the vet told us it was too early to tell if he would make it, but that he was in an incubator to warm him up and on an I.V.  By about noon, they told us his chances were about 50/50 and that even if he made it, he could die in a few days from pneumonia or brain damage.  They could tell from his eyes that he had bruising in his head.  According to the vet, even if he survived, it was very likely he wouldn't recognize us and that his "personality" would be very different.  Apparently, this happens a lot, enough that the vet knew the course he would likely run.

I have to admit that I was having very strong feelings that we should euthanize him at this point.  The thought of the suffering was pretty terrible and neither Mike nor I wanted to put him through all of that just to make ourselves feel better.  I'm not going to lie, the cost of treatment was a big consideration too.

To be perfectly honest, neither Mike or I are pet people.  We have the cat solely because we think kids should have pets, for all the reasons pets are good for kids, and cats are less work than a dog and don't mind time alone.  With our schedules, we just don't have a lot of extra time to devote to a pet.  I'm a strong believer that if you have a pet, you shouldn't just stick them in the backyard and forget that they exist.

As for the kids, it was pure luck that they had spent the previous night with their grandparents as Friday was a parent conference day at school.  We debated what to tell them, but in the end, decided to tell them the truth.  I knew that telling them he got out and ran away would never work.  My girls would have been canvassing the neighborhood and hanging up fliers.  It's just how they are.  I think Mike's guilt wouldn't let him off the hook that easy.

Payton didn't really get the gravity of the situation, being blessed with being 6.  She told Mike she would just sing to Nicky until he felt better. Avery, at a much wiser age 10, was very worried and cried every time it came to mind until we brought Nicky home Friday night.

Once he got home, Nicky walked around for a couple of minutes then laid down.  He slept all evening and all day Saturday.  He hadn't eaten anything or drank a drop of water since we brought him home, so we were starting to get nervous.  Saturday night, the girls and I tried giving him cat treats again and he ate a couple, so we gave him eight.  He still wouldn't drink anything. 

By Sunday morning, he had drained his water bowl and was starting to move around.  Sunday night, he ran upstairs after the girls.  By Monday, I swear he was back to his same old self.  You can only tell he has been through any kind of trauma from a shaved spot under his neck and another on his right front leg where his I.V.'s were placed.


Two Days After His Run-In with the Maytag

We are completely stunned by the fact he survived, and equally as stunned by his seemingly complete recovery in a matter of days.  Granted, the vet said he could develop pneumonia up to a week after the "incident," but seeing they way he is acting, no one in our house believes that is going to happen.

I am honestly a little freaked out by him.  It feels very Pet Cemetery to me.  When he stares at us, we wonder if he has figured out what happened and is plotting our demise.  I know I'm weird, but this is one freaky situation.

That's the story.  Judge us as you will.  We really felt terrible.  For the first two days, I was literally nauseous every time I thought about it.  Strangely, everyone that has joked about it actually really helped("You should have looked at his collar.  It said hand wash only").  His survival didn't hurt either, of course. 

Avery Has Kept a Close Eye
on Nicky the Last Couple of Days

I'm not sure if there is a lesson to be learned, other than check the washer for cats, but Nicky's trauma definitely affected us.  Somebody is definitely looking out for this cat.  I suspect he is going to be around for awhile.  I'll keep you posted.

Still not a cat person,
Stacy