But my paw was really sore so I was not putting any weight on it as I scooted around the homestead on Saturday morning. Of course Mom freaked out and called the vet... and of course the vet wanted to see me (who wouldn't).
Next thing you know I was shoved into the Prisoner Transport Unit (PTU) and sang the song of my people all the way to the office. Once the vet came in, not a peep out of me. I was questioned, poked and prodded but I never told what was wrong.
I was sent home with medicines, but by Wednesday I was still playing tripod. Again I was hauled off, and this time they were able to tell it was my paw toe that was swollen. I ignored the whole humiliating episode by burrowing into Mom's arm pit while I was man handled. So more medications and we'll just see what happens for a couple more days.
Mom caught me playing with my kick toy using both paws this morning, so she's a little less worried. Meanwhile Quill is taking his opportunities to tell me he's boss cat. Sigh. It's not been an easy week Friday, but I think I'm on the mend.
Of course I still look good!
