I was remembering recently of Cujo (very aptly named), a black cat we took in off the streets back in the early 1980's. He was extremely aggressive - we had him neutered and he became more lovable, but sort of terrorized our other cats (and some of us, depending on his mood).
Our vet took a real liking to him, so my mom decided perhaps the vet would take him in, since he was a terror at home. We very sadly put him in his enclosed cardboard carrier (holes in top for breathing purposes) and drove him via interstate to the vet, 5 miles away. The vet took him home that evening (in the carrier) another 5 miles away.
One month later I looked out into the back yard and saw him sitting on the porch. I yelled for my mom, who didn't believe it was Cujo. I let him in, he went right to the food bowls, and ate like he'd not had food in forever. He was very thin.
Of course, we assumed the vet had dropped him off. Nope, upon calling him, he said that when he'd first taken the cat home, he'd let him live in an outbuilding. (Cujo was used to sleeping in beds, for gosh sakes!) Then he mentioned his pre-teen kids kinda "played rough" with him. (I have no idea what that means) Then he said Cujo had left his home 3 weeks earlier.
This cat trekked 10 miles past two rivers, multiple highways, bridges - and managed to find his way home. We certainly weren't going to give him up then. So for his aggression (this was the 1980's, remember) the vet prescribed one fourth of an "ovaban" (female hormone) tablet per day. The poor cat. But it did help some. He lived several more years with us.
I just wondered if anyone else has ever had an experience like this.
Our vet took a real liking to him, so my mom decided perhaps the vet would take him in, since he was a terror at home. We very sadly put him in his enclosed cardboard carrier (holes in top for breathing purposes) and drove him via interstate to the vet, 5 miles away. The vet took him home that evening (in the carrier) another 5 miles away.
One month later I looked out into the back yard and saw him sitting on the porch. I yelled for my mom, who didn't believe it was Cujo. I let him in, he went right to the food bowls, and ate like he'd not had food in forever. He was very thin.
Of course, we assumed the vet had dropped him off. Nope, upon calling him, he said that when he'd first taken the cat home, he'd let him live in an outbuilding. (Cujo was used to sleeping in beds, for gosh sakes!) Then he mentioned his pre-teen kids kinda "played rough" with him. (I have no idea what that means) Then he said Cujo had left his home 3 weeks earlier.
This cat trekked 10 miles past two rivers, multiple highways, bridges - and managed to find his way home. We certainly weren't going to give him up then. So for his aggression (this was the 1980's, remember) the vet prescribed one fourth of an "ovaban" (female hormone) tablet per day. The poor cat. But it did help some. He lived several more years with us.
I just wondered if anyone else has ever had an experience like this.
