The Cat’s Meow

Well, all my plans to get anything accomplished on Thursday flew right out the window when STARZ released this slice of heart-melting cuteness into the universe:

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ…that is so unbelievably adorable. Ladies and gentlemen, introducing Adso Fraser.

“Still he hesitated for a moment, loath to break the spell of the Place. Some tiny movement caught the corner of his eye, and he bent down, squinting as he peered into the deepening shadows beneath a holly bush.

It sat frozen, blending perfectly with its dusky background. He would never have seen it had his hunter’s eye not caught its movement. A tiny kitten, its gray fur puffed out like a ripe milkweed head, enormous eyes wide open and unblinking, almost colorless in the gloom beneath the bush.

‘A Chait,’ he whispered, putting out a slow finger toward it. ‘Whatever are ye doing here?'”

-The Fiery Cross

Most of my readers know that in my real life I’m a veterinarian and so these pictures were the perfect pairing of both my worlds. Truth be told, although I’m a lover of all creatures great and small, I hold a special spot in my heart for cats. Of this I’m certain I’m not alone within the Outlander fandom.

I don’t know all the details on this kitty, but I’ll update this post if production releases any more information. I do know that it is quite cute and appears to be a British Shorthair of sorts. It is totally plausible that a kitten looking like this would be found as a stray somewhere in the eighteenth century American Colonies; American Shorthair cats are descended from those brought to the colonies by English immigrants.

Cats were mostly kept for their mousing abilities and helped keep the rodent populations down on ships and in the colonies. I have a whole post dedicated to eighteenth century veterinary medicine- featuring both Rollo and Adso- so stay tuned for that.

In the meantime, I thought it might be fun to write an imaginary veterinary examination for this adorable wee cheetie. If the Fraser family brought this kitten to me in my imaginary eighteenth century veterinary office, what could I say based on this picture alone?

So, here is my fictional examination. In the medical world, we often use a “SOAP” format for records: Subjective (the patient’s history), Objective (the physical examination), Assesment (putting together the history and exam, our overall analysis of the problem and patient), and Plan (our therapeutic plan for the patient).

As an aside, if anyone from production is reading I am offering up my veterinary services pro bono. Just saying.

Warning: minor spoilers from The Fiery Cross. Enjoy!

Subjective: Patient found in the backcountry of North Carolina by a tall, breathtakingly handsome Scottish man. Unknown prior history. Readily ate bowl of offered cream. No concerns per owner.

Objective:

General: bright, alert, responsive, app early adequately hydrated. Mucous membranes pink.

Eyes/ears/nose/mouth: clear AU/OU, no nasal discharge, visible oral cavity appears within normal limits

Lymph nodes: no overt peripheral lymphadenopathy

Cardiovascular/respiratory: unable to auscultate; appears eupneic and and to be nasal breathing; no overt respiratory distress

Abdomen/urogenital: unable to palpate or examine; no overt discomfort

Integument: haircoat appears full, clean; unable to assess for ectoparasites

Musculoskeletal: appears adequately muscled and symmetrical; ambulatory x 4; body condition score 5/9

Neurologic: no overt deficits; appropriate mentation

Assessment: Apparently healthy kitten, adorable wee cheetie.

Plan: Integrate cat into Fraser household. Knock over items in the pantry and surgery, play with visitors’ wigs, catch bugs and hunt rodents, survive Revolutionary War. Offer comfort by way of purring and lap naps. Provide warmth on cold mountain nights. Be a good cheetie and a beloved member of the Outlander universe:

“He reached across my body to touch a silky, translucent ear, and the kitten twitched its whiskers, screwing up its face as though about to sneeze, but didn’t open its eyes. The purr continued unabated.

‘One of the books she liked was written by an Austrian, from the city of Melk, and so she thought it a verra suitable name for the kit.’

‘Suitable …?’

‘Aye,’ he said, nodding toward the empty dish, without the slightest twitch of lip or eyelid. ‘Adso of Milk.’

A slit of green showed as one eye opened, as though in response to the name. Then it closed again, and the purring resumed.

‘Well, if he doesn’t mind, I suppose I don’t,’ I said, resigned. ‘Adso it is.'”

Slàinte.