Louis Update Day 4

As soon as I arrived at the vet's and asked 'How is he today', the vet nurse's face lit up and she said, 'Oh, he's doing so much better!' And as soon as I saw him, I could see what she meant. He was in a different cage: they clean them out regularly, and as I suspect he's been weeing straight from the catheter onto the bedding, I am glad they do! Another nurse—Wendy, I think, who is chatty and lovely with all the animals (although not backward with the horror stories, neither—I really didn't want to hear about her cat who got shot, nor the graphic description of the injuries...)—told me that he'd moved himself to the front of the cage. And sure enough, there he was, pressed against the wire door, his back legs tucked up and his face and front legs right against the door.

And for the first time, he meowed when he saw me, and he sat himself up—his front half, anyway. I didn't open the door at first, as I was a bit worried about him being so close to the door, but he wasn't happy with just through-the-wire pats, so I opened it and we had a lovely long cuddle, his head pressed into my chest and lots of purring and the odd meow. He's not a very chatty cat at the best of times, so it was good to hear his creaky little voice.

And his back legs are definitely moving. I saw him retract and stretch them both several times. And he ate—he really was hungry, but I think he's finding it awkward to eat out of the tiny bowl his food was in, so I hand fed him Aldi chicken and he gobbled it up. I don't know why they don't just put it on a flat dish, would be much easier for him.

He still has the catheter in, so fingers crossed he can wee by himself when that comes out. (Looks extremely uncomfortable, a bit of plastic stuck in his urethra!)

There's absolutely no doubt at all he is much improved. At one stage, he tried to stand up, or move himself or something, and it hurt him, and he yowled, so he's going to have to learn he can't do that yet. But the relief, oh the relief, at seeing his legs move! And I stroked his left foot and he didn't like it, which means pain response, which is GOOD!

The thing that fascinates me is how he reacts—or rather, doesn't react—to all the other animals around him. Little Dexter, the black and white cat I wrote about yesterday, was meowing quite a bit, and Louis didn't react at all. And he is NOT a fan of cats he doesn't know. He's not entirely mad about the ones he does. And there was a sweet little puppy next to him who was desperate for me to give him some love, and was putting his paws through and licking me, and Louis didn't mind a bit. Worse still, there was a beautiful big dog, some French breed I'd never heard of, but the colour of golden syrup and curly/shaggy, who had only come in about an hour before, because a snake had slid over his foot, and they didn't know if he'd been bitten or not. Beau was his name, and he barked and howled the entire time, because he DID NOT want to be in that cage (which admittedly he all but filled), away from his people. The vet on duty was running various tests to see if he had been bitten, and it seemed they decided not, because eventually they said to him 'Oh, be quiet, your mother will be here in a minute.'

And in all that noise, DOG noise, Louis didn't bat an ear. It's funny—any other time with a dog making that racket, he'd have been very alert, frightened even, but nothing.

Although I have to say, by the time I left, and he knew I was going, he had a rather Put Out expression on his face. Enough of this! he seemed to be thinking. Why are you leaving? And why can't I come too? These stupid dogs are bugging me!

Lovely, lovely boy. Onward and upwards, I hope. I am so bouyed by the fact that his legs were moving, and now I just have to pray he can wee independently. Good boy, Louis, good boy!