Eight left

As I type, Biscuit the cat is happily crawling up the fly screen, enjoying ripping it, slowly but surely, to bits.

Unusually, this fills me with happiness.

On Dec 3, Biscuit managed to fall from our corridor onto the concrete paving below. She fell two floors, probably slipping because her movement was a bit restricted due to the surgical jacket she was wearing to stop her licking the scar from where she had just been neutered.

It was partly ‘my fault’ – normally when Biscuit went onto the landing, she would run back inside fairly quickly. On this occasion she decided to go exploring and fall off.

Mrs Saul was wondering where she had got to, eventually finding her in a pool of blood two floors down, lying quietly on her side and looking ‘odd’. We rushed her to the vet after sliding her onto a baking tray with a towel on it. I whispered words of encouragement to her the whole way there, convinced she would die from internal injuries.

Apparently, cats are always coming into the vet having fallen off things. They tend to injure themselves in certain, predictable patterns. Fortunately, Biscuit hadn’t broken any bones or punctured any organs. She had damaged her spine though. It was clear that she could hardly move one of her rear legs, barely being able to move the other one at all. The blood had come from her nose.

The vet was very honest – it was unlikely that she would recover the use of her legs and it was likely that she would be incontinent and have little quality of life. I was preparing myself to face the thought of having her put down, when she moved across her cage at the vet’s and promptly used the litter tray with no issues at all. Hurrah.

On arriving home after observation at the vet for a couple of days, Biscuit was very subdued and could only move around by shuffling her back legs forward whilst resting on the front two. Her back was very bent and it was hard to pick her up without hurting her. It was also hard for her to sit on us without us being hurt – unable to jump, her modus operandi when wanting a lap to sleep on was to dig her front claws into your thighs and haul herself up that way. Ouch.

Two and a bit months later, you would hardly know she had injured herself. She is running around, jumping about and is super lively. She is able to jump up onto the dining room table and burn her tail on a candle, for example.

She is also now happily jumping up onto the balcony railings… I’m not sure what to do, really. I’m sure she’s going to fall again, but at least the ground below the balcony is covered with grass. We just need to keep an eye on her and not let her go outside alone.

Lucky cat.

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One Response to “Eight left”

  1. Riz Din Says:

    Oh no, why can’t cats learn to be scared of heights. May I suggest a larger version of the Action Man parachute permanently attached on the Biscuit…just imagine the shock of people down below, seeing a parachuting cat floating down.

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