Ballsy Binx

On November 13, it was time for Binx's first official vet appointment and the scheduling of his neuter appointment.
We brought along Binx's stuffed puppy so that he'd knead the dog instead of the vet. He sat perfectly in our black cat carrier only mewing during the car ride. There were no tantrums and fits like what we see from Sparta in the carrier. They quickly brought us back, looking warily at the puppy dog in my hand. Is it for the lady or for the.... cat?!? I could hear their thoughts screaming. The vet technician, a tall male with pulled back brown hair, pulled Binx from the carrier as I set the puppy on the steel gray examination table.
Our big black cat weighs just under 12 pounds!

He loves to sleep on people

Then, another technician came into the room and proceeded to do the feline leukemia test. Thankfully, I wasn't able to see as the guy jabbed and jabbed poor Binx's inner leg unable to get any blood. The vet, a man with a light sandy handlebar mustache, walked in, assessed the situation, then slightly pushed the technician out of the way.
"You have to do it higher up to get any blood," said the vet.
My lips thinned. Had that idiot just been stabbing my cat that entire time because he didn't know what in the world he was doing? Welcome to the medical world of amateurs or old schoolers who refuse to budge from the original practices.
"Have you taken his temperature?" the vet asked.
No, they hadn't. Binx experienced a sensation like never before to reveal a perfect temperature.
Then, the vet came Binx a once over by looking into his eyes, mouth, and ears then patting him down. He pronounced Binx extremely healthy. The vet started feeling Binx's backside.
"Oh wow, he's neutered," said the vet.

Wait.... WHAT??

Inside or outside??

"But, my neutered cat at home doesn't look like that," I stammered, referring to the very noticeable "man parts" under Binx's tail.

"Well, we think he's about 3-years-old," the vet answered. "If he was neutered recently, say in the past few months, then he would still have that. Also, he has a very large head."

"Well," I said to Stuart, "there goes our easy fix on the aggression."

"Aggression?" said the vet.

"Yes, he's completely fine with us," I stated as the vet continued to press into Binx's pelvic region. "But, whenever he comes face-to-face with my other cat, he stalks him like prey or rushes him. He's extremely confrontational!"

"Well, that sounds like he has testosterone in his system," said the vet. "I can feel something small and round on the inside of his legs where testicles could be, but they could also be lymph nodes or fat depositions. I would say that if he's not neutered, then his testicles are up in these tubes that lead down to the scrotum. Or, they never dropped at all, and we would have to operate in his abdominal cavity like a female during a spay surgery."

"What are our options?" we asked.

"You could do nothing and wait for him to spray or go after a female. I don't recommend that," said the vet sternly. "We could take some blood and send it to a lab for testing. See what his testosterone levels are. But, I don't know how much that would cost off the top of my head. You're looking at paying for that and then possibly paying for neutering depending on what the tests show. Then, we can perform surgery here but because we don't know where the testicles are, we would have to do exploratory surgery, which puts you at $70." 

Stuart and I stared at him as he continued to pound Binx's belly with his hands. We were baffled. Confused. Bamboozled. Confounded. Astonished. That was the vaguest information ever given in the history of human and animal medicine.

"Well..." said Stuart.

"Huh," I said.
Another vet was called in to examine Binx as well.  She couldn't find anything either.
"Well, what do you think?" The vet chuckled. "Looking at him, I was expecting to feel some big testicles. But nothing!!"
Stuart and I could only glance at each other with large eyes.
"I guess we're going to have to wait and make a decision," I answered.
"Yep, I'd hate to put the guy through surgery and anesthesia for nothing. To make slits on the inside of his legs and check to see exactly what those hard round lumps are is simple. But, if we have to go into his abdominal cavity, that's invasive surgery. It's something to think about. In the meantime, I'll make some calls and find out what it would cost to do the testosterone tests."
"Thank you," we said and headed out of the office. My beautiful, perfectly healthy, somewhat less masculine Binx had been completely calm, quiet, and perfect through the whole 15-minute ordeal, even during the leukemia shot after all the manhandling. No ripping out the vet's throat. No gloves or towel needed. Not a single peep!
As soon as we got into Stuart's car, we burst into a fit of laughter. What were we going  to do now?? What came to be referred to as The Great Balls Debate on Facebook quickly came to a conclusion!

To be continued...