You may remember the trials and tribulations I had with Gaia (the 3 legged cat) first time around before she ran away to live in the field at the top of my road back in May last year.
So, two days after Oscar’s departure I got a call from the vet hospital (on a Sunday afternoon).
“We have your cat here” they say
My brain goes into overdrive. Yes, they do – they put him to sleep on Friday. Hang on, what the hell is he doing in the hospital, some 15 miles from my local vet surgery?
Apparently her new humans had noticed she hadn’t come for her supper on Saturday and not appeared for breakfast on Sunday morning. They went to check her little house (yes, they’d made up a little shelter for her, complete with pet bed and waterproof plastic sheeting!) and she was in there, looking very poorly indeed and barely had the strength to lift her head to get some water. After nearly losing a finger retrieving her and getting her into a carrier, they had been whizzed up to the hospital to be checked over (without telling me anything). She was running a fever, had an infection in one of her front legs where something had got at her and so she stayed in overnight to get antibiotics and rehydration.
I picked her up the following afternoon, forked out nearly £300 and I can’t say that she looked at all pleased to see me. She was in her carrier with her nose to the back wall. When I lifted the corner of the sheet covering the carrier, she looked around and I swear she said to herself “oh bugger it – not *you* again”.
They do say every cloud has a silver lining – I hadn’t wanted to stress her out by trapping her to get her back home but this little episode had achieved the same end result. And she may have hated me (or just been plain terrified of me) but I did miss her when she went.
After being tucked up into her own room with beds, toys, food, water, all manner of cat niceties, the paw healed over the next few days and she eschewed all beds and hidey holes, preferring to hide in the corner behind a chair.
The rest of the brood didn’t take much notice of her being back, obviously recognising her scent – a couple of sniffs and some tentative hisses and she was well and truly back in the fold.
Her temporary adoptive humans have been to visit her. They’ve said they’ll be quite happy to look after her again if she comes back to the field. I’ve said there’s bugger all chance of that if I have anything to do with it this time around (even if cats do have their own minds).
She’s staying put in my house this time.
Oh – and she’s been rechristened. She’s now called Poppy and I do believe she approves of the name 🙂