I almost didn't post today. Thought I might give the peep some time off for sick leave. But it would have been the first post I've ever missed since I began blogging way back last November so... the peep said she would suck it up and help me with today's post anyway.
It all began late Saturday night. Cat fight! It was outside on the street. Street fights are the worst, you know? No rules or anything. I do my best not to get involved in stuff like like that but apparently, not all cats feel the same way.
Well, the screeching began and the peep grabbed the flashlight and ran outdoors. There they were... nosey neighbour cat and that cat who came back... Carson. They were growling and hissing and spitting but not yet fighting. The peep was concerned the most for Carson 'cause we still haven't figured out whose cat he is and she was worried that if he got hurt, who would help him? Nosey neighbour cat can be a real scrapper at times so she opted to pick up Carson.
About halfway down the driveway, it happened. Everything seemed fine but then... then... then that cat who came back - who my peeps now call Carson - did it. He bit the peep.
Well, the hospital situation isn't too great here in Nova Scotia. When they don't have a doctor to man the ER, they just shut it down. The peep didn't even bother calling to see if the ER was open or not 'cause she thought there was a good chance that it wasn't and it was late at night and peep #2 wasn't home and she would have had to have driven herself. Seriously, my hospital never closes. There's always a doctor on call for me. I suggested to the peep that she go see my vet but oh no... that wasn't good enough for her. Silly peep.
So she cleaned out the wounds and watched all her blood go down the drain. I have to admit it. My peep was very brave. Didn't hear a single meow of pain out of her all night.
By Monday morning, the peep was ready to go see the doctor. She was so ready, in fact, I think she was even open to the idea of seeing mine. There was no doctor at the local hospital until eight that night so it was my hospital or she could drive to one at the other end of the valley. Personally, I would have opted to go to my hospital - they're very experienced with cat bites, you know - but instead, the peep managed to squeeze in an appointment with her own doctor at his office. He's pretty good, I hear, but he can't possibly be as good as my doctor or my peeps would take me to him, too. Of this, I am sure. Peeps always want the best for me, you know.
So now, the peep is on antibiotics and pain medication and is currently practising for when the one-handed litter box change becomes an Olympic event. She's getting pretty good at it. She's also doing the one-handed typing thing which seems quite awkward, if you ask me. I doubt it will ever become an Olympic sport. Too weird, I think. Good thing I write my own blog, huh? And if the infection isn't gone by tomorrow she'll go back to her doctor and he will personally take her to the hospital to give her an IV antibiotic or something like that. I've had IVs before and for me, they always shaved off some of my fur on my leg. Hope they don't have to shave the peep's head or anything.
We cats are taking good care of the peep. As you know, I never sleep with her at night. That's my sister Constance's job. But the last couple of nights, I've been right there snuggled in beside her along with Connie and my Auntie Blossom. My dad took a running leap like he so often does but he landed right on the peep's sore hand. You should have heard the howls. The peep unceremoniously dumped my dad onto the floor and he walked away, tail between his legs, complaining the peep could be so ungrateful. Oh yeah, and the peep wasn't too pleased, either.
So I'm sorry if my post isn't up to my usual stuff but it has been a rough week, you know? Hopefully, by Sunday, the peep's hand will be better and I'll have less nursing and doctoring to do for her. For now, I think I'll suggest to her that we go take a little nap. When in doubt, nap. Always a good idea. But I'll make sure my dad curls up down by the peep's feet this time. Cats who take running leaps onto beds and couches and other pieces of furniture are not to be trusted around peeps with sore hands. No... not to be trusted at all.