As you can see, this old guy is doing great–better than he’s been in years. Why, he’s running up and down the stairs, following me everywhere I go, eating like a horse, catching mice in the garden, and swatting at his little sister Jiffy–just to teach her who is still the big man around here, in case she forgot. He’s even put back on some good solid weight to substantiate the claim. Legoless, we’re calling him, which is a hearty, tough guy name…with a double meaning.
Yeah, he’s even taken to bossing me around these days. “Let me out. Let me in. Let me out and then right back in. Feed me the chicken food. Feed me the turkey this time. Now let me out again–and of course, right back in. Oh, he’s pushing his luck pulling this stuff all day long, but he nearly needs a swat when he tries it at 4 in the morning. Oh, and he’s developed a funny meow to go along with his new “I run the joint” attitude. It’s a howl of sorts. And I’d be happy to ignore it, except that it’s quite impossible at the crack of dawn. This guy’s a nut job I tell you…a twenty year old nut job.
Good thing I positively love the living daylights out of this old, silly cat.
And apparently he isn’t missing the back leg, one little bit.
I’ve posted many times in the last few years about Mr. Beany and his adventures, and more particularly in the last few months–with his injured leg. The vet told us that there wasn’t much that he could do other than give him antibiotics if it flared up occasionally. Then one day, he just happened to be laying a certain way and I got a real good look at the inside of his leg. The condition of his back right paw had definitely taken a turn for the worse.
I took him to the vet again. After examining him, he came out to me and said, “You know…Beany is very, very old…” I knew what he was about to say but I couldn’t let him. I held up one finger and managed to say, “Just don’t.”
Then I started to cry.
The decision was made to relieve Beany of the burden of that terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad…
When the doctor told me that Beany might not even make it through the surgery–I said, “Then that will be the Lord’s decision, not mine. At least he’ll go knowing that I was trying to help. He deserves that.”
So, I held him on my lap and talked to him for awhile. He seemed to get that I was sad and worried but that I love this old silly cat so darn much. I handed him over to the nurse and slowly walked to my car. I kept thinking how strange it would be to not have Beany anymore…if something were to happen to him. I sat in the car and bawled for awhile, then drove home.
The next evening at about 5:30 pm I finally spoke to the doctor. He said, “That is one tough cat.” Good, good news. My cute little tough-guy cat was apparently much sicker than we had thought. In fact, he had a fever going into surgery, but the second that angry leg was gone his temperature dropped down to normal.
Long story, short– this cat is a champ and he did beautifully…
and we got to bring him home the next day–Saturday night. Look how swollen his paw was from the IV.
Now some of these pictures are graphic so if you have a tender stomach, you might want to stop here. If you’re very brave…you’re welcome to continue on.
We’ve had to give him several kinds of nasty medicine and a pill a couple times a day. Not too fun, but he’s a terrific sport.
This is Beany boy sitting up like nothing ever happened…
the day after surgery. Sorry, I know it’s pretty graphic, but I’m just amazed at him just carrying on like it’s any other day, except that he’s missing a leg.
This nutty guy has already jumped up on my bed and back down a couple times. He follows me around and lays on the floor by me wherever I am–like he’s just glad to be here…with us.
If you look very closely, you’ll see that besides the weekend’s deer visit, we’ve also had a wandering bird of some kind traipsing through the yard by night.
He strolled right across the driveway and around the corner of the house, like he knew just where he was going. And pardon me, but those are actually pretty darn big birdie feet–if you ask me. What IS that, a seagull or pheasant or something? I thought they left for the winter.
Oh, now look. Don’t you just love the footprints of friends meeting up at midnight for a little stroll and chat?