Most everyone who knows me, is Facebook friends with me, or lives within a 100 mile radius of me knows that last Thursday our cat Lucy had her left front leg amputated. We thought she had just fractured the leg, but the x-rays revealed a tumor that, thankfully, was confined to the leg.
I left Thursday for Cincinnati to visit my best friend and even though there would have been nothing I could have done had I stayed home, I felt bad leaving both Blair and Lucy. I shouldn't have. Lucy was in excellent hands. On Friday, Blair--who works 45 minutes away from where the animal hospital is located--drove to see Lucy on his lunch hour, even though she was still sedated and pretty much out of it. He then drove another 45 minutes that evening to sit with her again when they started to bring her off the heavy pain meds. He loves his girl.
He brought Lucy home on Saturday and I arrived back home on Sunday. I have to say, I'm thrilled with how well Lucy seems to be doing. It's hard to tell with cats, but she doesn't seem to be in much pain. We have her confined to my office and, when we're not home, caged in a dog crate to make sure she doesn't attempt any climbing for at least 2 weeks. Still, the little maniac makes a dash for the door every time it's opened, alleviating any concern I have that she won't be able to get around. She's fast, even on 3 legs and post surgery.
The worst part is the plastic blue collar she has to wear. Our little Houdini has figured out how to put her good front paw through the neck and loosen the collar enough to wiggle out, so she's on constant "collar watch," with either Blair or myself popping into the office every 10 minutes going, "Leave it alone, Luce."
I can't wait for the two weeks to be over. I think she'll feel much better when she is out of the collar and once again has free reign of the house. But for now, I'm grateful she seems to have breezed through the surgery. And luckily, I have a light work week this week, because "Mommy" is spending mucho time with her baby.