We went to visit Oboe in the hospital again this evening, and he seems to be improving. His breathing still isn’t great, and the vet says it might be a punctured air sac. She’s hoping it’ll resolve itself over time. She says we’re basically keeping him alive and buying him time so that Mother Nature can heal him. She’s less concerned about his wing now than about his breathing. It might not be broken after all. He can’t fly, but at least it’s not drooping. It might get better on its own too.
Here’s an 11-second video I took of him tonight.
Also, he finally chirped! It was only one little chirp, but it was the first sound he has made since all this happened. He’s still not eating, but he got excited about a corn kernel I offered him, and he wrapped his beak around it. He nibbled a bit of millet for me, too.
I’m especially happy to be able to report that he’s coming home tomorrow night, assuming he doesn’t take a turn for the worse between now and then. The vet wants him to have the extra insurance of another day of injected antibiotics, since cat bites are so incredibly deadly, bacteria-wise.
He’ll still be on oral antibiotics and anti-inflammatories for pain. And I’ll have to handfeed him baby bird formula with a syringe three times a day until he can feed himself. As long as I can keep him well fed and hydrated and warm and safe, he should be okay here.
Which is great, because I was starting to think the ultimate irony would be that I’d spend all my reserves on “buying him time” and then when he was finally strong enough for treatment to fix him, I’d be out of money and unable to afford it.
He’s a little avian vet humour for you: A bird goes to the vet and the vet says “The bad news is that you’ve got a serious case of chirpies. The good news is that it’s tweetable.”
Ha ha ha ha ha!