Well, Joey’s doing much better. The swelling has gone down and his leg looks much more like a leg than an arm.
He’s eating and drinking on his own now. No more feeding him with an eyedropper. He’s even eating kibble, which means I can put the Pablum away. He had that for a couple of days because he hadn’t eaten for several before that. I know a cat’s stomach isn’t quite the same as a human’s, but I still didn’t need him puking up what he’d just eaten. He seems to have survived the aspirin, too. His eyes are clear and he’s looking around more alertly. *lol* Checking to see if anyone’s going to make a fuss over him. He’s getting quite spoiled.
He’s using the litterbox on a regular basis now. That was another worry I’d had. From the looks of things, I jumped the gun. Joey must have only been clipped by the taxi and not hit full on. The cats haven’t been outside much since Monday. I think they had an hour outside on Thursday and nothing else. They’re not overly happy about that, but I’d rather they were ticked at me for that than have to go through the heart-stopping scenario of having another one get hit.
We decided not to go with the vet looking after him. I heard of a chiropractor who works on dogs, but, as we found out, not on cats. She’ll do some asking around, though, to see if there’s someone willing to check out Joey. I’m not sure that he has dislocated or broken bones, now that the swelling has gone down, but I’d like someone who knows a bit more than I do to check it out. I’d go to a vet, but to be honest? I’m not impressed with any one of them right now. How they can manage to leave an animal in pain is beyond me.
Oh, and there was someone else I’m going to have to introduce you to. Two someones. Miss Chief and Noisette (or Noisé, if it turns out she’s a he). Miss Chief is the first of the two foundling kittens we got just before Joey got hit. Miss Chief is completely grey and loves exploring – and getting into mischief. Noisette is just that, a noisy little thing. She’s a grey and black tiger-striped tabby, with a very loud voice and almost as loud purr.
They both love to climb up on my shoulders if I’m sitting down, or snuggle with me if I’m laying on the couch. I make a pretty good freeway, they seem to think. They can go from one end of the couch to the other on me and then jump up on the back of the couch for the return trip. And repeat. They’re only small yet, maybe 7-8 weeks old, but we’ve weaned them and we’re working on getting them litter trained.
My neighbour gave us a new “toy” for the cats. She got rid of hers, so we have the cat tree (for the big cats), the cat apartment (for the kittens) and a new water dish. It’s the kind with a large jug on top that you only have to fill every couple of days. The cats don’t mind using the dish, but they’re not too sure about the glugging noise it sometimes makes. They’ll get used to it, I’m sure, but it’s funny to see the expression on their faces when it gurgles at them.
Sari and Smoky aren’t too happy with me at the moment. Not only am I not letting them out, but I’m paying more attention to Joey than I am to them. Normally, it’s the other way around, you see. Once Joey’s up on his feet and back to ignoring everything but the front door and the kibble dish, I’ll have more lap space and hands available to fuss over the other cats.
In the meantime, Salem has taken over alarm clock duty, telling me it’s bedtime at night and waking me up in the morning. Thankfully, he’s not as early a riser as Joey was. No more 5am wake up calls.
