A kitten found us last fall. He was everything we didn’t want–we had two dogs we were pretty sure would eat him, he was a male, and had long hair. We tried to give him away then we tried to take him to the humane shelter…he got a head cold…then he got a puss sack on the side of his neck…
However he turned out to be the favored pet in our home. Hardly anyone can walk by him without scooping him up and saying, “I love this cat.” He is the most gentle, sweet, spoiled stray that ever lived.
So a week ago when he stumbled home, barley able to stand, looking a little crooked and bent, too weak to cry in pain unless touched–I could scarcely eat or sleep for two days. We weren’t sure what happened, it seemed like he had gotten hit by a car. He couldn’t stand, he wouldn’t eat…we resolved ourselves to make him comfortable and let him die.
We prayed and prayed. I felt guilty sometimes praying for my pet so hard while fires raged in Colorado, but I prayed for that too–and all the other things in the world that are more important than an adopted stray cat.
After a few days he accepted a little food, then one day he purred as my daughter petted him. He would show up in a different room and we hadn’t moved him. Basically he healed. He is a little thinner, a little slower and a little gimp but otherwise fine.
In a way, I hope he is always lame enough to be trapped in our yard. Someone recently told me “I would love to have a cat, they just don’t last.”
Should a cat be kept indoors or allowed to roam?