food, crochet, merriment
in our front yard…
I was called to the window to see…
this sweet thing.
We were stunned.
This has never happened before because we live just off the main drag and a good 2 miles from the mountains.
Not to mention the big lighted car lot that this pretty thing had to cross to nibble our grass…
or crab apples…
or pine cones…
or whatever it was.
But she left while we were watching and then–from the footprints, we could tell she came back again before morning.
We loved it.
Felt kinda magical.
:}
So, do you remember me telling you weeks ago that we thought Beany had a dislocated hip and there was really nothing we could do?
Well the other day, I was looking at his foot because all of a sudden he started walking really weird, not just with a slight limp, but like he couldn’t bend his foot–at all.
On closer inspection, and to my horror, the top of his foot was swollen up like a golf ball. We got him in to our vet, Dr. Degering as quickly as we could. In fact, I couldn’t even find the cat carrier to take him in so I just held the poor guy on my lap. I thought at first that he would go nuts, but he just sat there and let me hold him. I think sometimes animals just know when we really are trying to help them.
Anyway, Dr. Degering examined him thoroughly and said his hip was fine. At first he thought that Beany must certainly have cancer of the bone, but after an x-ray he found that his leg had actually been broken clear back when I thought he had hurt his hip. Yeah…I feel like such a schmuck. My poor kitty. The doctor thinks that he has a bone infection (Jenny–HELP!!) and that he’ll need to be on anti-biotics for about 10 days. After that he wants to see him again and figure out what to do next. He said part of the bone is deteriorated and a new piece is growing back. Sad…sad.
Trust me, I’ve learned my lesson. I solemnly swear that I will never try to diagnose a very brave, very dear cat’s injuries–ever again. Ever. As long as I live.
And now we wait, while I try to figure out how to give a syringe full of medicine to a street savvy cat…
and hope he forgives me someday.
No, no…Beany’s not dead. He looks like it…but he’s just sleeping. Would you believe that this ancient kitty actually has a dislocated hip? Yeah, kinda gross, I know. He limps along without putting too much weight on it, but oddly enough he doesn’t act like it is causing him any pain. In fact, he even runs around and goes up and down the stairs…just on three feet instead of four. The doctor can’t fix it because cat hips aren’t like human hips–they can’t just be popped back in. So he has to just go slow and let the ligaments heal. Oh, and somebody asked me the other day–just how old this guy is anyway.
I’ll put it like this~ we have a picture of the Bald Kid—with a baby bottle in his mouth–holding Beany’s sister Squeeker as a kitten.
The Bald Kid turns 21…
tomorrow.
That would make old Beany-boy 96 in cat years.
Yeah, I think we’ll just let him sleep…right there…on the floor.
You’ve gotta be nice to old folks.
While Mommy was getting a few errands finished today–Chompy and I strolled down to the pet store–where she B-lines it straight to…the kittens. She loves them and this little guy loved her right back–through the glass.
I told her this little puppy was called a “Pug,” and she said, “I can like a Pud.”
She was a bit braver than I am about all the aquarium critters–that creep me out. She stuck her face right up there by a 90 foot Salamander. Blaugh…
Turtles are better…but still…I’m going to hang back here a bit.
Now we’re talking. Chompy and I love birds and this little blue lady was amazing. I always have this overwhelming urge to open all the cages and shout, “Fly…fly!”
But so far…I’m not brave enough…
to spend the night in jail.
These four baby love birds were so adorable all huddled together and timid.
This seems to be where we came in—doesn’t it? Chompy and her kittens. She said we need to come back tomorrow or the kitty would miss her and cry.
Of that…I have no doubt.
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