My Poor Kitty

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.

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~Boots~

When I was a kid–to say that we always, always had cats would be putting it lightly. Not only did we always have at least one cat, but that one cat–often Beasty–was usually about to have about 6 more. I know, I know, but it was back before we “fixed” all the animals and so the poor dear had a few batches of babies each year. Forgive us. We didn’t know better.

ANYway, this little kitty is one that we kept longer than normal because we just didn’t find it a home with all it’s brothers and sisters. He had unusually thick, soft, lush fur. So thick and soft and lush, in fact, that my dad asked me ten times a day if he could make my cat into…a pelt. I think he thought he was being funny. I though he was one sick ticket. My mom named the cat Boots–and yes, we have a bit more imagination when naming our animals these days…

but I digress.

This cute little kitty used to follow me around the house and watch while I did my chores with strange intensity, almost like she wished she could help me–which would have been really nice. She’d stand and stare while I made my bed, and while I washed out the bathtub and especially if I was washing the kitchen floor. In fact the reason that my mom took this picture was because as I scrubbed my brush around and around in tiny circles, Boot’s little head would follow the same motion–around and around and around like a mechanical toy. My mom was laughing so hard she could barely keep the camera still long enough to snap the photo.

We always had dogs along with the cats–but I will say, I’m partial to cats and kittens. Whatever it is, there’s just something touching about a little creature that wants nothing more than to stay close to you. It feels priceless.

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Beany Boy Update

For those who’ve asked how Mr. Beany is doing, I have to say, pretty great….for a hundred year old kitty with a healing hip.

He still walks with a slight limp–but it’s much better than it was. The muscles in his hip are still “sprung” so-to-speak, but he doesn’t seem to have any pain with it.

And see how that same leg is just poking out to one side? Yeah, they say he’ll probably do that the rest of his life because the leg is essentially longer now.  But I pet him and love him and feed him soft food and now and then, I even get away with massaging his hip. I think he lets me because he doesn’t want me to worry about him.

In fact, if he spoke English, which I swear sometimes he does–I think he’d say,

“It’s all good.

Thanks for asking.

Now feed me.”