…and trying not to contemplate murder.
Hint: it hasn’t really been working. And I apologize in advance for the ‘rant’.
There’s something people need to understand: if you mess with my cat, even in the smallest way, you most definitely mess with me. Thus far I’ve been controlling my emotions (and immense desire to retaliate) quite well, but I don’t know how much longer I can stand it.
*breathe* Okay, here’s the story:
Last Friday, I arrived home to find a letter from the complex’s representative stating that (1) it had been brought to their attention that there are animals in the complex; (2) it is in actual fact a pet-free complex, (3) we need to indicate who gave us permission to have our pets, providing written proof of this; (4) pets should be neutered/spayed; et cetera. This immediately put me in a foul mood since we received a notice last year February that only the three apartments listed therein had permission to own cats (thank the Gods for my obsessive-compulsive hoarding instinct that kicked in and made me keep that notice!)
If they’re going to complain about the cats (and there aren’t that many anymore, though now there are two dogs), I want to provide a counter argument complaint about the g*ddamn kiddies that live here:
(1) They run around everywhere; (2) they scream at each other while standing side by side, and it sounds like they are being murdered – I’m not sure whether to be concerned about a true injury or annoyed about the obvious attention-seeking gesture; (3) they have a blatant disregard for cars coming in and out of the gate, instead deciding that that’s a good place to hang around and then getting petulant/sulky when you ask them to move; (4) they don’t seem to have been taught that you leave other people’s pets alone and shouldn’t agitate/chase/pick them up or take them into your apartment – why do you think they run away or, in a different scenario, scratch you for grabbing at them. Sometimes animals cannot help what they do, but you as a parent are raising that child and obviously not doing the best of jobs… Trust me, I could go on and on about the little hooligans.
And I now, again*, have good reason to.
[*I say again because while we were on honeymoon they managed to let the cat out of our apartment and have my older sister in a flat spin looking for Smudgy only to hear one of the apartment doors opening and seeing her running from that direction.]
While I was reading the letter on Friday, Smudgy came to sit on the countertop. I immediately noticed that she wasn’t her usual self: she didn’t meow at me, wasn’t curious about what I was eating, wouldn’t respond when I talked to her and instead just sat there looking frightened/alert while staring at the window. I noticed that her tail was a droopy, and initially assumed she was merely feeling a bit ‘off’… until I told my mum about it on the phone a few minutes later. Her opinion? That Smudgy’s tail might be broken.
Cue mild panic attack and protective anxiety over my beloved kitty!
I could see she was in a great deal of pain, struggling to sit/lie down comfortably and sort of holding her backside in the air. Upon taking her to the vet, it was confirmed that her tail was either broken or dislocated, they he suspected (and I hoped for) the latter. I had to leave her there overnight so that she could go for x-rays the following morning. It turned out that her tail had been dislocated, but that she would be fine as long as there were no internal problems (nerve endings not working properly being the main concern). I had to closely monitor Smudgy’s sandbox habits – not being able to urinate or pass stool could mean complications and a possible operation. Defensive human mommy that I am, I worked from home on Monday just so that I could be close to her.
It seems like Smudgy was pursued by someone/something and, when she jumped into our window to escape, digging her nails in for purchase to drag herself out of harm’s way, aforementioned someone/something yanked on her tail – thus causing the dislocation. I don’t believe another cat could have done it. If it were a car, Smudgy’s tail would have been broken, not dislocated, and she knows to stay away from moving vehicles (she makes herself scarce when one starts up). The only logical thing that springs to mind is that the kiddies were (again) running up and down the stairs, playing in front of the various apartments, and then were chasing her and trying to grab onto her when she jumped inside. The school holidays started last Friday, after all, and I’ve seen them harassing cats before…
Oh, and when we were finally able to let Smudgy outside again on Tuesday, she was only gone for a short while before she leapt with great swiftness through the window again. A few seconds later, I heard the children passing by our window and running down the stairs to their respective homes, deterring me from seeing whose delinquents had been after her.
*rage rage RAGE*
Anyway: Smudgy’s tail is still a bit droopy, but other than that, the vet has confirmed that she’s fine and should make a speedy recovery. I just wish that she didn’t have to go through that pain 😦 I’ve tried not thinking about it too much. Instead, I’ve been thankful that the damage didn’t necessitate surgery and that she’s been giving me more cuddle time and affection.
Perhaps I should take up a personal mantra: Keep calm and don’t kill the kiddies… yet.
Stretching out across my lap before coming in for a cuddle
Completely contented kitty 🙂
The Skinny on my Jeans (Genes) 