Aug. 23, 2002 ~ Hoppy Calf
was doing more hopping than walking this morning, but there seems to be no swelling, so who knows. Soon, either tonight, tomorrow or Sunday, we'll change the dressings on the splint. Susan offered to help, but it may be Sunday before she can make it out here, so I think we might try to do it ourselves... see how it goes. She says the bones should be starting to grow back together somewhat, that the foot won't be dangling like it was initially. Good. For all my "big and brave" attitude, I don't like the thought of trying to align badly broken pieces of bone. In fact, I'm not crazy about the idea of redoing the splint, because I'm afraid we won't get it right, but I hate to ask Susan to come out here on her day off. Husband says he will do the splint if I will restrain the calf, but shoot... that calf is getting big. I have my doubts. And the splint will have to be cut off (just the tape, but there's tape the whole length of the splint), then padding will need to be cut to fit it, the padding taped on, and THEN it's time to start taping on the splint again. It took Susan a while to do it, and she already had the padding on it. Whoever is holding the calf had better pack a lunch, as I expect it will take a while.
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Misha is quiet these days, and seems very tired. He has good times and bad times. During the bad times, I swallow hard and think it might be time to let go. During the good times, I wonder how I could have ever considered that thought. He can no longer keep pills down, though he still gets his twice-daily insulin shots.
His fur is matted, because he's stopped grooming himself, but he absolutely hates to be brushed. And he bites if I try it. I wonder if his skin has gotten more sensitive, or if it's just that he's plain uncomfortable because of his illness. I cut out the worst mats, but he hates that, too, and sometimes he jumps or twists away as I'm snipping with the scissors, and it gives him an "interesting" look. Like a toddler who has given himself a haircut.
Here he is in better days:
Susan has a giveaway stray cat at her clinic, and I'm considering taking her. We have vacancies. Husband doesn't think so, though. At one time we had twenty-six or more cats, but some have died or disappeared, most likely victims of bobcats or coyotes. Not sure how many we have now... I'd have to count them. It's in the teens, probably.
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