But last weekend Roy the cat spent all Sunday on the couch, which we didn't think much about until we noticed this.
Now, if you're wondering, no, those aren't my Crocs. I took this at the vet's office.
If you're wondering why that claw seems to be pointed straight at you, that's because his cat toe is very broken. It's not the toe that's supposed to be pointed outwards. It's twisted and wrapped up and over the top of his paw. That he wasn't yowling and freaking out was impressive. But he didn't seem bothered. Until I touched it. Which I did while Roy was on Joshua's lap. Roy's reaction was to use the rest of his claws on Joshua. Whoops!
No idea how it happened. He can go outside, so perhaps he had a run-in with the one-eyed, giant grey fluff ball of a cat named Salem (although we're told she's friendly). Or perhaps it was messing around in the house with the dog that did it.
Anyway, I called the vet first thing Monday morning and they said we could bring him right in. I strapped his carrier onto a baby stroller and wheeled him over.
|I thought it was impressive. Roy? Not so impressed.|
They didn't re-break it and we went to pick him up around 5pm. He was woozy and growly. The vet assistant said that he needed to stay in his crate for the night. She said he was still effected by the narcotics and that he could have a bit of water, but no food until morning. And that I should bring him back on Friday for a check-up.
He was noisy. And I tried letting him out, but he was all doped up and wobbly, and he just wanted food, so he'd try to run downstairs. Nope.
In the morning he got his food, finally, and we let him out. We moved all his stuff upstairs so he didn't have to go thumping his cast up and down three times a day. He tries to shake the cast off and sometimes tries to lick it off. But he can walk on it.
But for the most part he seems to be just fine. He can't go outside, which he doesn't really like. He gets noisy when we take the dog for walks and leave him behind. On Friday the vet changed his "cast", which is actually just cotton fluff wrapped in orange tape.
And he spends his days like this, for the most part.
Or like this:
Next new tape job is on Friday. Not sure how long he'll have to wear it, but I'll ask at this next visit. I can really sympathize, seeing as I had to wear an orange cast when I broke my foot. In the meantime, the couch next to the wood stove is all his.