Chewwie, our cat, had been getting fatter by the day. I’d feel his belly and there it was, round and compact, like he’d been eating too much. This went on for months. Chewwie didn’t seem to mind when we felt his belly. He didn’t act any different that he did before he started getting fat. He had really long gray fur so he didn’t look fat from a distance; it was just when you picked him up and felt his belly that you noticed the hard, roundness of it.
My housekeeper, Dawn, came over one day and she felt Chewwie’s belly. She said she thought it was some sort of tumor. Surprised, I called the Vet. We had discovered a Vet across town that was reasonable in their prices. Dawn offered to take Chewwie to the Vet because she lived over by the them. I put Chewwie in the kennel and off they went.
Dawn called me later in the day and said that Chewwie had a hernia. A very larger hernia. It was as big as my fist. It had to be repaired. She told me it would be $140 so I told Dawn to tell the Vet to do it. Chewwie spent two nights at the Vet and two days later, Dawn brought Chewwie home. His beautiful fur was shaved under his belly but other than that, he was just fine and his belly sure felt different. The Vet didn’t give us any special instructions after the procedure. Chewwie jumped up on furniture just like he did before his surgery.
When I talked to the Vet, he said that Chewwie’s condition was just “weird”. He couldn’t quite explain it to me, but he said that Chewwie’s hernia was an odd one. I never did find out what was so odd about Chewwie’s hernia, other than it was really big, because the Vet couldn’t articulate it to me, but we had Chewwie back and he was safe. I don’t know what would have happened if we hadn’t discovered that it was a hernia rather than Chewwie just getting fat, but alls well that ends well.