So our kitty for the year, Nausicaa came home the other night limping. She looked so sad and well, a little pathetic. We babied her and picked her up and put her on the ground or couch and we brought her food to her. But after a day she was still "ca va pas". She was even drooling four liters a minute (that's one gallon for you Americans)! So I asked Sophie what to do and we decided to take her to the vet. So on Wednesday after Erin's art class I went over and told the neighbors the problem. Why did I go? Because Erin said I had to. It was one of those moments when we weren't seeing eye-to-eye on how things worked. So I went over and tried to explain that her paw was hurt. The neighbor came over and Erin and her went to the vet. Long story short, she fractured her poor paw.
The vet, who is the husband of a lady I play badminton with, was very nice and gave us some drugs and said it would heal in a few days. But poor kitty still had a hurt paw. But it's getting better. But it was an adventure. She's still holding her little "patte" (paw) up when she sits sometimes, but that's probably habit more than anything.
While she was still healing, she was supposed to stay inside. She did not like that. She was so anxious. We moved her litter box to block the kitty door and for 2 days we checked it... but nothing. Then on the 2nd day she was being really weird. She followed me into the bathroom while I shaved and BAM - she did her business. Yes, gross. But at least it was in the shower and easy to clean. So we promptly moved her litter box to her desired location. To get out of the house we had to take advantage of her two weaknesses: her paw and her hunger. Erin would leave quickly and as Nausicaa chased her I'd go over to the area where her food is, she'd come slowly over and then I'd run for the door before she could slowly make her way back across the house. I know it was mean, but it was the only way for us to get out and keep her in. Poor kitty, being teased while she's hurt.
No comments:
Post a Comment