Mr. Bean Meets Animal Rescue

About every couple of months, I have my very own episode of Animal Rescue, except usually, it’s more like Mr. Bean Meets Animal Rescue because of the way things always take some goofy, unplanned twist.

Since nobody in Egypt gives a rat’s ass about animals in general, I have taken it upon myself to rescue and nurture animals (specifically cats) who have been injured, or need help.

I was once on the way to a meeting with my boss, on the way, while I was driving on the highway, I noticed a kitten crossing the street frantically. As she crossed, the car in front of me ran hit her. She flung in the air, landed and hopped back and forth hysterically, obviously in pain and not knowing where to go. Eventually, she managed to run across the road.

Without thinking, I pulled over at the side of the road in a lane where there was a tractor blocking it from traffic, got out of the car and went searching for her. There I was in a business suit and heels, heel-deep in dirt towards where she ran, walking around going, “psss psss psss”.

The construction workers nearby, of course, got a kick out of this. The only thing I could think of was to see whether she was alive, how bad she was hit and then to see if I could take her to the vet. I finally found her. She appeared completely fine from the outside, there was no blood visible. I was afraid that she may have broken bones or internal bleeding, so I decided to grab her, put her in the car and take her to the vet.

I slowly approached her, tried to pet her, of course in her frantic state, she would not allow it. I finally grabbed her from her sides and holy shit, did she resist! She was twisting and turning like a worm on acid! I finally got a good grip on her and ran to the car, opened the door and threw her in the back seat.

Now there was only one small problem. The meeting. Woops. I figured a life or death matter is more important than a measly business meeting. I called my boss, told him I have something urgent that came up and that I would explain later and to delay the meeting one hour.

My vet doesn’t have morning clinic hours, so I decided to take her home, leave her in the spare bathroom so she doesn’t fight with my cat, leave her food, water, etc and take her to the clinic in the afternoon.

I got home, went and got my cat’s kennel, opened the car door, now if I could only get a hold of the cat. She went ballistic inside my car! She swung and she swiped. She scratched me about a dozen times, until she finally bit down through my nail so hard that she pierced it. I finally got her in the kennel, took her home and left her in the kennel with food and water so I would be able to get her to the vet later. I washed and disinfected my hands. My finger started swelling so much that it started to look like I got bit by a vampire!

I called my vet who has saved my number from the amount of times she is used to getting calls over the period I’ve known her over injured cats or injured me from injured cats. I took an appointment for the evening.

When we go to the vet, we opened the kennel so the doctor could check her out and she kept flinging across the room like a bat out of hell! It took four people and two shots of anesthesia to pin her down. It turns out, the poor thing survived without internal injury but had a completely shattered hind leg. It was shattered at the joints which supposedly could not heal and she would walk around dragging it permanently.

Not only this, but from the way her extremely aggressive behavior was, the vet said she could not rule out rabies. She said I should not keep this cat until she has healed and that I should go get rabies shots immediately. I was flabbergasted.

Since she had 2 shots of anesthesia, there was no way I was going to let her go out on the street and fend for herself drugged and with a shattered leg. I decided to keep her in the spare bathroom for a couple of days isolated until she gets a bit better.

I then headed to the hospital. I went to the ER to have someone have a quick look at my hand and to ask for a rabies test, if there was one. They prescribed the name of the seven-course rabies shots I should take and off I went to the pharmacy. I spent the whole drive thinking, ‘Shit, this is what I get for trying to save a fucking cat’s life. Risking my own fucking life. Great, fucking great.’

I walked in and to my luck, the pharmacy was packed with people. The pharmacist asked me what I need and I handed him the prescription in silence to spare myself the humiliation of saying out loud, “ I need rabies shots.”

He asked me in a very loud voice over the chatter in the pharmacy, “Enti 3yza tat3eem rabies? (Do you want rabies shots?)” The room went silent. Everyone looked at me and took one step away from me as if I was a fucking drooling rabid dog! I nodded in silence.

He asked again, “Leh? Howa kalb 3dek wala eh? (Did a dog bite you or what?)” Everyone was waiting for my reply. Not wanting to prolong this moment any longer with any details, I said , “Ah. (Yes).”

He told me to go in the back where another pharmacist would give me the first shot and instruct me on when and how to take the other six. While I was going to the back, I heard him say to the pharmacist giving me the shot, “Khaly balak la te3odak. (Be careful, she might bite you.)” I just wanted to get out of this mortifying situation, and I was so consumed with the possibility that I might actually have rabies which I had read is a sure killer, so I let it go. Looking back, I should've turned around and barked at him.

That story is now history and I can assure you, I am neither drooling, nor do I bite, but today, I have been pissed on twice, my finger is swollen and maybe bit down to the bone this time, from today’s episode of Mr. Bean Meets Animal Rescue. Today’s cat, however, is safe and sound.