Easter Saturday afternoon, our friends Bob and Chuck, Derek (my husband) and I struggled to move a large shed from its original spot on the back of our property to a new spot so a shop could be built where the shed had stood. The project involved making a new foundation for the old shed, jacking the shed up and moving it about 25 feet. After it was loosened from its moorings, jacked up and placed on rollers, Bob and Chuck applied wide straps to the shed to stabilize it, Derek attached a tow rope to the straps and I drove the truck that pulled it to its new position over the fresh foundation.

Merle, Chuck's wife, watched with her hands clasped over her open mouth. Slowly, ever so cautiously, hampered by the perennial west wind and unpredictable transmission in the old truck, we moved the shed, stopping several times to make adjustments to the straps or the rollers on which the shed moved. We had just gotten the shed in place to set it on its new base, heaving a collective sigh of relief, when my phone rang reminding me that I was on call.

I answered the phone and the caller explained that her cat had gone missing the night before and had just returned but was unable to use one of his front legs. She thought the leg might be broken but, while that was a possibility, I told her that cat bite abscesses are very common and very painful. I mentioned that as a potential cause of the problem. Either way, the kitty needed to be seen soon and we agreed to meet at my clinic.

The black and white kitty, Oreo, and his owners arrived soon after we got to the veterinary clinic. Carefully wrapped in a soft towel, Oreo huddled miserably in his owner's gentle arms. His dilated eyes betrayed his fear and pain. We carefully placed him on the exam table and my hopes that it was a simple abscess fled when I saw the unnatural position of his paw.

It appeared that his front leg was indeed broken and I wondered aloud if he may have gotten hit by a car or attacked by a dog. His owners, Cory and Don, agreed to let me anesthetize him for radiographs. I wanted to evaluate the probable fracture of his leg, but in trauma cases, it makes sense also to be sure that no internal injuries go along with the obvious broken bone.

As soon as he was safely asleep and out of pain, two radiographs were taken and developed. I chatted briefly with Cory and Don about treatment plans as soon as we had more information and I felt confident that Oreo's leg would soon be stabilized and on the way to healing. The time spent waiting for the developer to finish the films was used to calculate Oreo's pain medication and antibiotics. Soon the films were done and I glanced at them as I met his owners in the room with the radiograph view box.

My throat tightened and tears stung my eyes as I realized what had happened to little Oreo. The lead fragments in his forearm and the absolute devastation to his humerus gave evidence of the damage a bullet from a rifle can cause: Oreo had been shot. I placed the films in the viewbox, and the damage done by some wanton vandal was exposed for all of us to see.

The awesome energy packed by a bullet from a rifle does more than simply fracture the bone it encounters. About one quarter of the distal end of Oreo's humerus was missing, the elbow joint completely destroyed. His paw was cold, suggesting that there was little or no circulation to his limb. A bone broken by the impact of a bullet is badly shocked, creating a situation where it is unlikely to heal. It can take months longer than a regular fracture to heal and the bone may not ever heal at all.

That, combined with the destruction to the soft tissue around the bone, makes amputation of the limb the best option for a quick and positive outcome.

Heartsick, I recommended that amputation be considered as the treatment of choice for Oreo. He received powerful pain medications and antibiotics and was recovered from anesthesia; his amputation surgery was scheduled for the next day to give the antibiotics time to work.

I felt so sorry for this little tuxedo-colored cat and the terrific damage done to his body by some thoughtless human who evidently figured a black and white kitty was nothing more than a target. My grief at having to amputate his leg amplified by the sorrow I felt for this unasked-for change in his life. I am unable to understand the complete disregard of some human with a gun.

The anger at whoever had done this to this sweet young cat and to his devoted family and the helplessness I felt at being able to do nothing more than removing his front limb sickened me more than I expected. The fact that Oreo lives in a subdivision where children play added fuel to the outrage I felt.

Early Sunday afternoon Oreo was anesthetized, his shoulder and chest clipped for surgery, the area scrubbed and draped. The surgery was uneventful although the depths of my soul were deeply disturbed that no other good options were available for Oreo. I knew in my heart that as soon as the ruined leg was removed he would be out of pain. Animals who undergo amputation seem to adapt easily and well, philosophically accepting their fate without complaint.

As soon as the last suture was placed, Oreo was wrapped lovingly in a towel freshly warm from the drier and held closely to comfort him as he recovered from the surgery. Surprisingly he started purring before he was fully awake. To my utter satisfaction Oreo's relief at the removal of his terribly painful limb was obvious as soon as he completely recovered from anesthesia. He contentedly curled his remaining front leg under his chest and rested easily on the soft blankets in his kennel.

He went home with his family on Monday, everyone pleased and impressed with his ability to move around nearly as well as before he was damaged. While still at the clinic, he lithely hopped into an empty laundry basket and then out again to the joy of his watching family and veterinarian.

A few days after Oreo got home Cory sent me a photo of him sitting complacently on the kitchen counter.

"He got up there and down again all by himself!" was her proud message.

I grinned to myself as I considered the likelihood that Oreo had NEVER been allowed on the kitchen counter before his injury. He is fine and his family is recovering from this event.

Tia Nelson is a local veterinarian specializing in an integrated approach to animal health that combines traditional veterinary medicine with holistic, natural practices.