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cimoreneTristana got fixed today and I was a little worried because she's so small, 1.8 kg still, but the cat specialist okayed it and all. She's a precious little bean, but she's also the most bloody-minded determined little firecracker we've ever met.
The tiniest cat onesie at the vet to cover her stitches, the XXXS, is a little too big for her. She was still stoned on opiates when Wax came to pick me up two hours after she got home and this happened:
ME: Weren't you scared to leave the kitten after her surgery?
WAX: I put her on the floor first. Her legs still don't work.
Later we walk into the kitchen and find the kitten on the cat cushions with Snookums at counter height, staring stonedly around and purring violently. Snookums is holding her in place with one paw as if he knew.
WAX: HOW DID SHE GET UP THERE?
(We normally keep a chair there to let her climb up because at least formerly she couldn't on her own and she'd just sit on the floor and cry.)
I guess she got stronger.
After that the opiates wore off and she continued being a holy terror, insisting on running up the stairs and down, bouncing off the walls playing, walking along the window ledge, rolling around on the floor, wrestling herself out of her onesie twice, etc. We put a third litter box out, filled with clay instead of the wood pellets we usually use because she refuses to use them when they're damp, and she took her reintroduction to the sandbox as if she was still high and it was a toy. She stood there digging as if she was going to tunnel through the earth, chirping to herself, frolicking back and forth and kicking sand everywhere (but not using the box for its intended purpose) for a good ten minutes. The only way to be sure she can't rupture her stitches would be to like... physically hold onto her I guess, but she won't sit still for that either. She makes the tiny growling protest noise, like "Mo-OOOOM, I'm BUSY!"
The tiniest cat onesie at the vet to cover her stitches, the XXXS, is a little too big for her. She was still stoned on opiates when Wax came to pick me up two hours after she got home and this happened:
ME: Weren't you scared to leave the kitten after her surgery?
WAX: I put her on the floor first. Her legs still don't work.
Later we walk into the kitchen and find the kitten on the cat cushions with Snookums at counter height, staring stonedly around and purring violently. Snookums is holding her in place with one paw as if he knew.
WAX: HOW DID SHE GET UP THERE?
(We normally keep a chair there to let her climb up because at least formerly she couldn't on her own and she'd just sit on the floor and cry.)
I guess she got stronger.
After that the opiates wore off and she continued being a holy terror, insisting on running up the stairs and down, bouncing off the walls playing, walking along the window ledge, rolling around on the floor, wrestling herself out of her onesie twice, etc. We put a third litter box out, filled with clay instead of the wood pellets we usually use because she refuses to use them when they're damp, and she took her reintroduction to the sandbox as if she was still high and it was a toy. She stood there digging as if she was going to tunnel through the earth, chirping to herself, frolicking back and forth and kicking sand everywhere (but not using the box for its intended purpose) for a good ten minutes. The only way to be sure she can't rupture her stitches would be to like... physically hold onto her I guess, but she won't sit still for that either. She makes the tiny growling protest noise, like "Mo-OOOOM, I'm BUSY!"
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Date: 24 Jun 2021 11:11 pm (UTC)Snookums holding her with one paw. Priceless. Wish there was a photo of that.
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Date: 25 Jun 2021 04:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 25 Jun 2021 06:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 25 Jun 2021 04:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 25 Jun 2021 04:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 25 Jun 2021 05:04 pm (UTC)