Friday, January 13, 2017
Welcome back to the cats 'n' books blog! Or whatever this is these days.
Don't be worried by Wilbur's dramatics: he's only playing dead. But sadly, the little guy was a lot worse for wear when we came home after two weeks away.
If you're a bit sentimental where cute kittens are concerned, please enjoy the above photo and don't keep reading, or you're only going to get upset and then you'll start me off crying again. When he's had his week at the vet, I'm sure he'll be okay.
But sadly, Wilbur is blind. This is going to be more rambling and less slickly presented than my usual posts, because it's something I just need to talk about, and uncharacteristically it's about something that actually matters.
We couldn't find him for a few days after we got back, having heard from my mother-in-law who was feeding his mother Cathy every day (Wilbur was strictly on the boob milk back then) that the strays had disappeared from our garden part way into our irresponsible festive break.
But on the fourth day back, when I called Cathy for nibbles and more interrogations about where she's keeping her baby these days, he shakily followed. I won't go into upsetting details, but it was obvious something was wrong, and I only didn't clock that he couldn't see for a few days because he was such a natural at getting around.
But then yesterday, his mother started to aggressively reject him and he's switched entirely to Whiskas Junior for his nutrition and hydration (am I making the milk formula wrong? Why doesn't he know how to lap water?)
So we took him to the vet, who confirmed the sad suspicion that it wasn't just a bit of cat flu and made the fairly straightforward home recuperation sound much too difficult for someone as squeamish around eyes as me. We practically begged her to take him off our hands until the infection's cleared up and he doesn't have to wear one of those collars any more to stop him pawing. In any other situation, the sight of a miniature cat struggling in a funnel would be hilarious, but there hasn't been much laughter around here today.
Let's all wish Wilbur a full recovery (I don't mean from his blindness, I'm not that naive!) so he can return home free from sickness and be my ace blind cat. Who I'll absolutely spoil all his life, not as some politically correct positive discrimination against the disabled, but to try to assuage the guilt that this is all basically my fault. It's only a minor comfort that if we'd continued to ignore him now his mother isn't feeding him any more, he probably wouldn't still be around.