(These 2 spend a great deal of time cuddling together...it's a constant Mutual Appreciation Society meeting!)
We had a wee fright today. Miss Cookie, 1 of our 2 beloved kittens, had a nasty looking injury to her abdomen - basically, a hole that was deep enough that it wasn't bleeding, and almost 1 1/2 inches in diameter (sorry for that!) Immy spotted it when she came to give Cookie a cuddle just as we were leaving for ballet class, and was so distressed, that she started these great heaving sobs, and her whole wee body was shaking like she was in shock. She was overcome with anxiety, and kept saying how scared she was that Cookie would die. I probably shouldn't have been surprised by the depth of feeling and anguish, but I confess I was a little. Cole, bless him, ever the protective *big* brother, tried to reassure her by saying *it's okay Immy, Cookie's not dead yet.*
As for me, I did that thing you're not really supposed to, and personally guaranteed Cookie's future wellbeing (I confess I had managed to sneak a peak at her wound by then and had decided - based on little more than blind faith, determined optimism and the very strong need to help my daughter cope - that whilst nasty, the damage didn not appear to be life threatening).
I managed to simultaneously check out the wound a bit more carefully (I am so grateful that Cookie and Mahe are the most ridiculously compliant cats...especially after our old cat Stussy who would happily try to take your eye out for looking at her wrong. I often joke we should have named these 2 Cheech and Chong for their laidback stoner natures!), get Immy dressed for her ballet lesson, Cookie into the cat cage, both kids and cat into car, and let the vets know by phone that we were on our way.
My sweet daughter spent the whole trip to ballet class singing lullabies to her furry sweetheart, all made up on the spot and for the most part a variation of *cookie I love you and you will be okay, hush hush sweet lovely*... Thankfully my lovely friend was already at ballet with her daughter so I could deliver a red eyed Immy into her care whilst Cole and I continued on to the vets. (No, normally I wouldn't even entertain the thought of taking Cookie to the vets without Immy, but the big ballet production is in 2 weeks and she has been so dedicated I wanted to try and work it that she wouldn't miss today's important multi-class rehearsal.
The good news? Our lovely vet saw Cookie straight away, and after reassuring both of us that the wound was eminently fixable - and most likely a dog bite given the additional 7 puncture wounds (seven!) - she made a point of giving Cole a message to take to his sister: Cookie needs an operation to stitch up the hole, and she'll need to stay there a while to get some medicine and be looked after, but she is a very brave cat and will absolutely fine. Good as new. Coley was so delighted at the news, and at the chance to ease a little of his sister's heartache. We made it back to ballet in time to see the second half of the rehearsal.
The very good news? Our vet was sweet enough to ring and give me an update after the surgery (it went well!) and to ask to speak to Imogen to convey the news. It was such a wonderful, caring gesture for the vet to acknowledge Immy's relationship, I got a bit teary eyed.
The most excellent news? Cookie's coming home tomorrow...and yes, Immy will most definitely there to collect her darling ball of fluff. We can't wait! (And neither, I suspect, can Mahe, who has spent the evening wandering around like a lost little lamb without his sister about - they are normally each other's shadows....rather like another set of twins I know, come to think of it...)
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