Mingo is now on enforced crate rest and yummy pain meds, having injured his left shoulder/leg in either a fall (his leap alway exceeds his grasp) or armed combat with Squeaky.
Two days ago the contractor (that’s another looong post) said, “That kitten is limping.” Not only was he limping, he wasn’t putting any weight on his left front leg at all, but scampering around at top speed on three legs. This was late Tuesday and the vet’s office was closed, so I reacted in a mature and considered manner. I took half a Xanax and a glass of wine.
After two hours and multiple x-rays at the vet’s the next day, (have I mentioned that Boulder Creek Veterinary Clinic is wonderful? They are.) the best guess is an injury to the elbow or the shoulder soft tissue and a probable infection. Especially since he was running a fever.
So he’s spending Thanksgiving resting in a crate and hating it and letting the world know all about it. You would think, since Squeaky weighs around 13 lbs. and Mingo weighs not quite 4, that Squeaky would be the aggressor in their little encounters. Nope. Squeaky plays defense. Mingo loves nothing better than to fling himself on Squeaky’s neck or back or butt and bite. Squeaky backs up and starts swinging; Mingo swings back. And when, inevitably, he ends up smacked down, he gets up and attacks again. And again. I have noticed that cats have rules: Squeaky only uses his front paws and never throws his full weight on the kitten, but still…he’s a big cat.
I suppose this problem was inevitable, and part of them working out who’s on first, but it’s a bit hard on the human. And the human’s checking account. I actually have pet insurance on Mingo, which is turning out to be a good thing. Mingo does not mess with Rainy the Siamese. He walks cautiously around her. Probably due to the Laser Glare of Death she shoots at him when he appears in front of her. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!