As I sat trying to organise thoughts, I was assailed with the plaintive cries of little blind Lucy.
It was always her habit, before she went blind, to follow me around in the morning till I settled at my desk and then she would curl up nearby and go to sleep.
At night she used to jump on the bed, walk across me twice and then retire to one of her favourite beds.
.
Having one of my cats go blind was not something I ever thought about. I had never heard of a cat spontaneously losing its vision.
Suddenly I had to figure it out.
Cats are very smart and quite adaptable and Lucy really never needed help finding the water bowl or litter box. Sometimes she wandered about a bit seeming to search for her bed but I resisted guiding her because I knew it was best for her to learn.
.
Lucy coped with all this.
Quite often, I have to move one of the others out of Lucy’s designated bed because if she finds it occupied, she goes to her second, less appealing safe place under a bench of shelves.
This is all manageable.
But this morning she wandered around wailing.
She is not a lap cat and doesn’t like to be picked up, so I moved a chair beside me for her. It’s where she used to sit, all the time. But she soon got down and resumed pacing and crying.
.
When I stooped to pet her she settled, purring, only to wail and wander the moment I stopped.
Perhaps this is what mothers go through with crying babies?
After lunch everyone found a spot for their siesta. I had to intervene on Toby’s behalf when he attempted to reclaim his morning’s perch only to find Blackie spitting at him.
.
Quite unnecessary, as there is ample room for both. I lifted the old boy up and demonstrated how they could both settle quite comfortably without even having to touch one another.
We recently tried Toby on pain medication. The liquid kind which is generally easier to administer, does not work for him because it makes him blow bubbles. So we tried pills which Grant persuaded him to swallow.
But it appears to be too sedating for him. At the best of times Toby’s gait is uncertain, so it is probably not a good idea to make things worse.
Sometimes it is really hard knowing what is the best thing to do for animals who depend on you.
After forty short winks Lucy began pacing again……
.
For now she has settled on a box beside me and I have my right leg bent up beside her for comfort.
Hers, certainly not mine.
Periodically I must offer my hand for Lucy to chew on and lick. If it’s what calms her, I am happy to offer it but it is somewhat distracting.
Overheard cat conversation:
Patches:
“Hey Toby! What’s the best way to get the woman’s attention?”
Toby:
“Try walking on that thing she’s always hitting with her fingers.”
Dee Dee:
“It’s a keyboard Toby!”
.
Toby:
“Well aren’t we the cultured cat!”
Dee Dee:
“That’s not culture, Toby. Culture is music and literature and the arts.”
Patches:
“Oh, I didn’t want to start an argument!”
.
Blackie:
“Don’t worry, Patches. You’ll know when it’s an argument!”
Lily:
“You want to see an argument, just piss off Tinkerbelle!”
Tinkerbelle:
“I have a reputation to maintain.”
.
Toby:
“Anyway, Dee Dee, since you know so much, what was all that fuss at the door this morning with Willow?”
Dee Dee:
“You mean because she put her nose outside when the people weren’t watching?”
Toby:
“Yeah. The woman shushed her in. Why can’t she go out?”
.
Dee Dee:
“Oh Toby. That’s because of what happened to The First One.”
Toby:
“You mean the Great Mo?”
Dee Dee:
“Yes. He went out and never came back.”
.
Lily:
“But we go out every day. Why can’t Willow?”
Dee Dee:
“Because she’s special.”
Lily:
“I’m the Number One and I’m special !”
.
Penny:
“We’re all special. But there is another kind of special.”
Dee Dee:
“The ‘First One’ sort of special.”
Penny:
“That’s right.”
.
Lily:
“So you mean Willow is The First One come back? But he was a boy and he was black.”
Dee Dee:
“Doesn’t matter. Your spirit can come back as something else. You could come back as a cockroach.”
.
Lily:
“I see. So you could come back as a tick?”
Penny
“Oh dear, young ones! Don’t be calling each other names!”
.
Blackie:
“I heard that cockroaches are going to inherit the Earth!”
Dee Dee:
“That’s right, so it would be a good thing to come back as.”
.
Toby:
“So they are saying Willow can’t go out because she’s the First One come back, but who’s coming back as a cockroach?”
Penny:
“Nobody, Toby. I think it’s because the woman is afraid Willow will go outside and not return like the First One.”
.
Patches:
“But it’s alright if we don’t come back?”
🙁
.
Lily:
“No. But we didn’t ask. We just went!”
“Anyway, I know I’m coming back, as myself. Where else am I going to get free grub and a warm bed?”
“See you all later!”
Toby:
“You women have given me a headache!”
My goodness! Who needs human politics when you have the entertainment of all these debates?
Crikey! Such complications.
I currently just have the one cat who has always been a talker and now has a habit of loudly complaining every time she wakes up, or eats, and at regular intervals during the night. And when I say loud I means loud. the neighbors must imagine she is being tortured. She has always been a talker but this is a whole new level. Vet reports it doesn’t seem to be physical.
What to do?
I once had occasion to take a cat to the vet a few times that howled bloody murder the whole way there. It was so loud, we got funny looks from other drivers. Cats have quite a range. Not very convenient in the middle of the night. A couple of ours pick up particular toys and sing to them late at night but so far not during. Then there is the ghost in the basement. Even His Nibbs goes down to sing to it. My Balinese used his voice to arrange a better home for himself, but that’s a long story!
Those cats are the luckiest cats in America. I have no doubt about that whatsoever.
Best wishes, Pete.
Thanks Pete. I hope so!
Oh, it’s all right to have a cat conversation … but don’t start with who is Number One. That can really turn into a proper argument!