Last May, we lost our cat, Bucky. I say “lost” because we don’t know what happened to him. He refused to come in one night; even treats couldn’t convince him to come inside so we left the cat door open, sure he’d come in when he got bored. We never saw him again. Coyotes probably got him, but he could have been catnapped. It had happened before. Maggie, his sister, disappeared one night. I reported her as lost (she’s micro-chipped) and combed the neighborhood. No luck so I gave up; I was sure coyotes got her. She ran into the house 24 hours later. And now she won’t go near people. So I hope that’s what happened to Bucky. I put up fliers all over the neighborhood and someone ripped them down immediately. It’s like they didn’t want him found. So, if he was catnapped, I hope whoever took him is treating him right. He was special and I still miss him.
But we didn’t like leaving Maggie all alone when we left town. We didn’t want another kitten because Maggie is mean; we weren’t sure she wouldn’t harm a kitten. So we went to the shelter and rescued a fuzzy, orange tomcat. He was over 2 (they think) and twice the size of Maggie. But he was shy so we hoped he wouldn’t pick on her and he was big enough that she couldn’t bully him. He spent his first two days with us in the bathroom, locked away from Maggie. He endured us petting him but he preferred to be alone. After two days, we let him out and anxiously watched his introduction to Maggie. She hissed at him and ran. Well, at least they didn’t fight. He needed a name but nothing seemed to fit. I finally adopted OB for Orange Boy. We’re all used to it now and he responds to it–although officially he’s Obi-Whine Catnobe. Gordon hates boring names. We worried that he’d dominate Maggie because he’s older and bigger. Not to worry; she’s queen of this castle. She gets the food first and he waits his turn. When he annoys her, she gives a whack on the head and he puts up with it. He’s a good-natured little fella and has learned that if he rolls on his back and presents tummy he gets more food. We croon, “Aaww, how cute!” and open the refrigerator. He has us trained.
We didn’t think he’d be interested in going outside but he dashed out one morning when Gordon went out to get the paper (yes, we still get the paper). I didn’t worry much. I figured he’d be back in an hour for more food so we left the door open but there was no OB. I was so discouraged I gave up after ten hours. I figured he’d gone the way of Bucky. Fourteen hours later he limped in and hid under the dining room table. We hauled him to the vet (the x-rays cost a fortune) and found out he had a broken leg. They couldn’t recommend an orthopedic surgeon. The only thing the doc on call could do was some sort of muscle bind thing–for $3,000. He wasn’t sure it would work so we decided to take OB home and watch him. We got some pain killer which we stuffed down his throat and hoped for the best. Well, the best happened. He walked on the leg. All the time. We finally took him off the pain killer; we thought it was masking difficulties and hoped he’d stay off the leg and let it heal. That didn’t stop him. It’s been a month now and he’s chasing Maggie which she doesn’t appreciate. He’s scurrying after bugs in the windows and jumping on the furniture. He still limps a bit but it’s getting better week by week. So I guess he doesn’t need surgery, thank God. We’re still puzzled as to what could have caused the break. Another pet owner at the vet’s office had the best suggestion. He said it sounded like OB got hit by a car. That makes the most sense and I hope OB learned from the experience. He’s lucky he wasn’t killed. He still sneaks out so I hope his learning curve picks up.
Now we hope he has sense enough to avoid coyotes. Bucky used to attack them. I hope OB’s a coward. We’ll see.
