A Poorly Leg

I think MasterB has a slight limp. Or maybe he hasn’t.

He was involved in some fisticuffs today and came home with tufts of fur that had been pulled from their roots sticking out from his coat. I removed them and checked him over. No mewing when I touched him, though later I found a scratch close to his eye which has now been bathed.

He took himself off to a drawer under my bed and slept for hours. Then when I went out he transferred to his bed in the sitting room and slept some more. I only realised he had relocated because I heard him snoring. Continue reading

Return of the Warrior

Well, he’s home. Still limping, but on the mend. He doesn’t say ‘ouch’ when he puts his paw to the ground, but there is still a fair amount of holding it in the air. When he got out of his basket he was rather wobbly, and I thought he might be happy to go to sleep.
He had other plans.
First, dinner. Half a sachet, the vet told me. And that is all he’s had, but if I move towards the kitchen he’s there like a shot.
Keep him in for a few days, she said. I don’t think he was listening. For the past hour he has sat beside the door, only moving if I have gone into the kitchen. He has kept a constant litany, a discontented wail to tell me how much he wants to go out. Just in case I haven’t understood, periodically he has scrabbled at the door.
I was planning an early night anyway, but I think sleep is the only thing that will bring an end to his complaints.
I am consoling myself with the thought that I would be much more worried if he were quiet and lethargic. Except a quiet lethargic cat sounds a lovely idea right now. Continue reading