Adventures of Spiffy Part 2

My head was fuzzy, I couldn’t think straight. I knew I was in the car again, in this stupid little cage that I couldn’t turn around in. Oh, this leg, that’s why I couldn’t turn around. I had a great thick bandage on my leg, covered up with a bright red one, and it made my leg feel stiff and it was sticking out. That’s why I couldn’t get comfortable.
When we got home, Kathryn opened the cage to let me out and I couldn’t get out quickly enough. But then I realized that I could hardly stand up, I was so dizzy and confused. I wobbled and wavered about with Kathryn trying to catch me. She was saying “Slow down, Spiffy, take it easy, little boy! Sit down somewhere, will you, or I’ll have to put you back in the cage!” What? Not the cage again! I found my way to the kitchen and Kathryn produced a saucer with my favourite fish on it. I was ravenous, but also as tired as can be. That’s how I ended up lying down to eat my meal. It might have looked lazy in the photo, but there was no other way. Then I found a nice comfy spot to curl up and sleep off this terrible tiredness. I’m sure those ladies must have given me something when I was out of it, to make me so sleepy. I know I sleep a lot normally, but at least I’m still alert and know what’s going on around me. Ah well, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

When I woke up, I felt a lot more alive and alert and ready to go outside. I was busting, so I made my way over to the door. It wasn’t easy with this ridiculous bandage on my leg. I know I’ve got my own pet door but I really prefer to go out of the laundry door into the carport, and there is usually someone kind enough to open it for me. But I couldn’t get into the laundry because the sliding door was closed. It is normally always open. I looked around but no-one was taking any notice of me.
So I hobbled back over to the other sliding door where the pet flap is and guess what? That sliding door was closed too! And in front of it was a yellow plastic rectangular tray with grey gritty stuff in it. I miaowed loudly and I don’t usually do that.
“Sorry, Spiffy, you can’t go outside for 10 days.” Kathryn said. What! How am I going to stay inside for so long? How can I do my private business? Is that what this silly yellow thing is for? And I showed them what I thought of it. I carefully stepped onto the grey gritty stuff, poked around a little bit with my front paws, and then I moved around in a couple of circles and lay down in the tray. I was still busting but I wasn’t going to let them know I was. While they kept an eye on me, I’d play their game, but I was sure it wouldn’t take long for someone to forget to keep the door closed and I would be ready when the opportunity presented itself.
The next thing I knew lights were being turned off, the tv was switched off and everyone went to bed. I was left lying there in this stupid yellow tray.
I thought about my situation for awhile and then when I was sure that everyone was asleep and it was pitch dark inside and out, I dug a little hole in that grey gritty stuff and did what I had to do. Carefully and as quietly as possible, I covered it over so no-one would know I had done it. I’ll show them.
I went and found a comfortable spot on the couch and slept for another 8 hours or so, thinking that when they got up in the morning they would forget that I’m supposed to be staying inside. At least when I was asleep I wasn’t thinking about this leg hurting so much. My plan was to start taking off the bandage in the morning after everyone had left the house. I would give all those wounds a good wash myself.

Adventures of Spiffy Part 1

Hi, this is Spiffy. Kathryn says I can use her Blog to get my message out there.
The photo is of me, yes the red colour suits me doesn’t it? But this leg is really sore.

It all started when I didn’t wake Kathryn up before her alarm went. Yes, I’m usually one step ahead of the alarm :) I want my breakfast before Kathryn heads off into the shower etc. When she woke up and realised I wasn’t there, she came looking for me. I was in a sorry state curled up on the couch. I felt like I’d been run over by a train. When I saw that Kathryn had come looking for me I tried to stand up but it was very difficult. One of my back legs just wouldn’t work. She had a look at my foot and my leg but couldn’t see anything, there was no blood or anything and I eventually hobbled out to the kitchen to make a bit of a show, at least, that I needed my breakfast. I couldn’t eat it though, and it was my favourite; Whiskas salmon and chicken in jelly, in the sachet, not the can. I tried to get comfortable in several different chairs and both couches but this leg was killing me. It’s a pity I can’t talk, because I would have really liked to tell Kathryn what happened to me. I could see she was really worried. She was looking up phone numbers and getting the surgery hours for the vet, pacing back & forth to check on me. I managed to get a little sleep and next thing I knew Kathryn was picking me up and putting me in her car! Whoah! Not another move to a different house! I’ve lived in enough different houses with plenty of different people and I like it HERE! I’m so used to travelling in cars but that’s what it usually means – she’s getting rid of me! PANIC!
Next thing, she’s putting me in a big plastic box in the front passenger seat, no lid though. She must know I can travel well in the car. I’m pretty brave really. I know people call me a Wuss, but I’m not really. Some cats are terrified of cars, but not me, I’ve done my share of travel. Kathryn talked quietly to me while we were driving, and after one initial walk across the whole dashboard, I thought I might as well sit quietly in the box. I didn’t want her to put the lid on the box, and she threatened to if I didn’t sit still!
Kathryn doesn’t own a proper carry cage (thankfully!). But when we got to our destination, she got out of the car and left me alone! What’s going on here, I thought. So I settled down in the sun on the driver’s seat while I waited to see what would happen next. I was pretty worried but I wasn’t going to let it show.
In a few minutes she came back with a pet carrier cage and put me in it! I was already feeling really bad, but that was really demoralising. Kathryn then carried me – in the cage – into another building. It smelt funny, but there were friendly people there and another cat. He was very interested in me and sniffed at me through the bars of the cage. I found out later that his name was Ollie and he lived there with those nice friendly people.
They took me into a room and a nice lady examined my leg. Boy, did that hurt when she prodded and poked, and squeezed blood out of holes that she found in my leg. And I was really brave, until she poked that other thing into an unmentionable part of me. How degrading! Then three of them had to hold me while they shaved some of my beautiful hair off. The lady said she needed to get a better look at the injuries. And then she told Kathryn that I’d probably been attacked by another cat and these were very deep bite wounds. Well if only I could talk I would have told her that myself. He was a big brute, too. No mercy.
I don’t remember much after that. I think Kathryn left me there but I was so tired and sick I didn’t really care. I know she loves me and wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me. How could I have thought she would get rid of me.
The next thing I knew I was being bundled into another cage (borrowed from the nice ladies) and Kathryn was talking to the other nice lady at the front desk and handing over BUNDLES of money! Then Kathryn asked for a receipt. I suppose she was going to wave that under my nose later. I was so tired I didn’t care any more.
Then the strangest thing happened. A voice said “Hello, Kathryn.” And it was Ruth, our next door neighbour, where my best friends, Hobbes and Albert live. They’re pretty old guys and they used to terrorise me a bit when I first moved into the neighbourhood, but we get on pretty well now. They thought my garden was their garden until we sorted out few issues over fences and shed roofs and such.
Anyway, back to the story. It turned out that Hobbes had the same kind of injuries as I had and he had had a general anaesthetic and surgery just like mine! Where I had a red bandage, he had a green one! Can you believe it? Poor old Hobbes; I mean I’m in the prime of life and pretty fit, but he’s 14 years old!
And then Ruth was handing over bundles of money, too, to the lady at the counter.
I put my head down and slept. This was all too much.
To be continued.