Prince Lucas Fluffypaws, as he is generally not known is the nicer of my two cats. Anybody who has met my cats would agree and so I don’t feel too guilty saying this. My other cat, Darcy, is a bit of a bish. I love them both the same, but he’s more fun to be around generally.
He’s a very active boy and likes to go out and survey his substantial territory for several hours a day, returning all puffed up with pride to get some love and food. He has beautiful blue eyes, which you won’t really get to see because he closes them on every photograph.
Last Saturday I got up full of plans to get packed and ready and go spend some time with Thom at one of our favourite cottages for a few days and found that my baby was injured! He had a big, deep cut on the back of his little leg that definitely needed attention.
The vet hummed and hawed and said that she needed to keep him there to knock him out and sew him up. I was horrified. I don’t like the cats having general anaesthetics if I can help it (there’s always a risk that they might not wake up) but needs must, so he had to stay there until teatime when he came home with stitches, a cone collar and a miserable face.
My Ex, Lucas’s Dad, had agreed to stay with him the weekend, so that I could still get away, so off I went with some guilt and a heavy heart. I managed to assuage some of the guilt using a combination of sambuca and roast dinner, but still worried about him a lot. Thom had to put up with me calling to check on Lucas regularly and once camming with the poorly kitty on Skype. (Yeah, you might laugh but I’m sure it helped him and I felt reassured).
I came home on Monday and Lukey miaowed and hurried down the stairs to tell me all about terrible it had been while I was gone, hoping that I might take off the cone of shame (reference to the dog in the movie ‘Up’) and let him out to play. Of course, I could do neither of those things, so soon he went back to prowling the house looking for an escape route and shouting at me.
I took to the internet, looking for an alternative to the cone. Lukey had made a point of explaining that he couldn’t sleep in it, he couldn’t lie down properly, he had no peripheral vision and he couldn’t eat in it. I found alternatives but they were a bit pricey in the main and couldn’t be delivered for several days.
I went upstairs and found a stripey overknee sock I had bought after watching a Strawberry Switchblade vid on Youtube and an old pillow in the airing cupboard and set about cutting into it with my nail scissors. I found to my surprise it was a feather and down pillow but I didn’t let that put me off. I stuffed as many feathers into the sock as I could, intending to make a tube I could tie around his neck and had almost finished when I squeezed the sock to check the padding level and found – oh no – all the spikey ends of the feathers stuck through the sock. Rethink… I fetched plastic sandwich bags and stuffed those with feathers and then put the bags into the sock, the spikey ends still stuck through. Sad face.
I surveyed the room… it was covered in feathers, as was I, and Lukey sat at my feet wondering how many feathers would have to fall on him before he got the duck.
I gave up on the feathers, left the room looking like a massacre in a chicken factory and came back to my trusty laptop, ordering an inflatable collar for my baby.
On Wednesday it came! I put it on him and bingo. He looked like a little Prince and he could nuzzle again, which makes him very happy.
Lukey went back to the vets today and we had both been hoping she’d say he could go out and have his collar off but sadly she did not. She said that he has to stay in and stay collared for another week to make sure he’s healed up properly. I accepted this and moved on. Lucas has not yet accepted this verdict and is wandering the house again looking for a way out.
Sighs. It’s a cat’s life.