Just another day
Where to start? At the beginning I guess.
We're all supposed to be going on holiday. In fact we were bound for the country today. Actually make that yesterday or even the day before. We can't blame the Binkster for the first two days delay but today... We were finally packed, almost. His nibs had yet to be introduced to the carrier and we were just packing foodstuffs from the refridgerator (to give you an idea of the lateness of the exercise) when we notice his paw.
It looks as if he's wearing an oven mitt.
We call the vets. They can see him in four hours or we can go to the emergency centre. We monitor. Curiously it seems as if he's oblivious to the injury. He's walking alomost without a limp despite one foot being almost three times the size of the other. It seems to get no worse, he washes it but not obsessively, he lets us examine it. Four hours go by and we go to the vets.
The antipodean vet (and pasty faced student) call for an x-ray. He can feel something at the elbow. He is suprised at the swelling and concerned. The x-rays seem a day or two away until we mention that we can go elsewhere as we're off with Mr. Binks. The vet consults schedule and says he can do the x-rays now. We leave without a cat.
Ninety minutes later we call, he's coming round and the vet needs to talk with us. But on arrival the receptionist wants to book another visit in five days time - we hope for the best. Indeed, immediately we're in the consulting room the vet says nothing is broken and we go through the radiographs together. He has beautiful feet.
So what was wrong? An insect bite is the prevailing theory - quite possible. It's warm in the sun and there are a few early bees about. He goes in and out so quickly it's hard to know when he might have done it.
Anyway, that wasn't quite it. As there was no food in the house (we were overdue two days now by anyone's reckoning) we went out for a curry. After making sure that Binks was settled on the sofa of course. On our return we were greeted at the front door. Far from being subdued by his experience, he had, for the first time ever, worked out the way round the street from the back garden to the front. And even found his own door - or else recognised our voices over the roar of the tracffic as we walked up.
And that wasn't quite it either. After being rewarded with a few more biscuits he was out the back carousing with the cat from two doors down. You could see him in the gloom, a white patch balancing on top of a thin garden trellis, ten feet up. Still swollen foot and all.