Phoebe Gets Hurt

Sunday Jan. 22

I have dreaded making this blog entry, dear readers, because I feel very bad about this and very embarrassed, but into every adventure some rain must fall, right? There is some stuff leading up to this, but I won’t keep you in suspense. Phoebe got outside and got into a cat fight with one of the free roaming cats in this condo complex. Her left front paw was injured with multiple clawings and several claw pieces actually getting stuck into the skin. She is limping on her left paw, but is being treated with an antibiotic, and the vet believes all the claw fragments have been removed. As I write this entry on Jan. 28, she is still not out of the woods, but I remain hopeful that this is the end of it, and that all she needs now is time for the inflammation to go down.

But I need to back up. The day started happily enough – a return to the Fleamasters Flea Market where I bought a bike from “Randy” at “Randy’s Bicycles. It’s a single speed Murray coaster bike, 1980s vintage, in dark red, and I had Randy put a basket on it, and foam handlebar grips, and also bought a cable lock. The total package came to $130, with $100 of that being for the bike. Even though, technically, I own the bike, Randy works a deal whereby if you want to rent the bike, you just need to keep your receipt, bring the bike back to Randy in the same shape as you got it, and he’ll give you half your money back, which is $50. I figure 2 month’s rental for $50 is a good deal. So I load the bike into the back of the Prius. The end of the bike sticks out a little bit, but I secure the hatch with a bungee cord, and all is well with the ride back to the condo.

I’m excited to ride the bike around my immediate area, so I go for about 10 miles in all directions, with a stop at Starbucks for some Java and to read one of my book. I was gone for a total of maybe a couple or three hours. I return to the condo and discover to my astonishment that not only have I left the door to the condo unlocked, but I have also left it ajar. I see Abby on the front stoop, but she immediately darts inside when she sees me. I go into the condo, and thankfully there are no signs of theft. But I cannot find Phoebe. I start calling for her, but nothing.  I make a lap outside the condo unit, calling, but no response. I finally find her cowering in one corner under my bed. She is obviously shaken, but appears OK, so I think this is end of it, and I have dodged a bullet.

But when she comes out from under the bed later in the afternoon/early evening, she is limping considerably on her left front leg. My first thought is that she got out, managed to get herself up high somewhere, then made a jump and possibly sprained her leg. I pick her up, and the left leg is obviously sensitive. There are no signs of bite marks on her anywhere, pieces of ear missing, chunks of fur gone, i.e., anything obvious that would indicate a cat fight.

I am hungry, but don’t want to fix anything or wander too far from the condo, so I settle on McDonald’s. As banal as it sounds, it’s familiar and quick. I try to watch a little TV, but also keep an eye on Phoebe. At least she is eating (and responds to her evening feeding of wet food) and is using the litter box. I remember there is a cat clinic just up the road from me, so I check the internet to find out what time they open tomorrow (Monday), and fall into a fitful and uneasy sleep.  I feel just terrible about this, and (nephew) Jimbo, if you are reading this, I’m sure you can relate.

Expenses today: bicycle and related gear:  $130; Starbucks, $2; dinner $3. Total $135.

Bruce