A long time ago, like maybe 15 years ago, I had this cat that Bridget brought (dragged) home as a kitten. She had fallen in love with this kitten at her friends house. Her friend lived on a farm and this was the product of a barn cat. He was black and white. We named him something, but I can't remember what it was. I called him "Cat". Several weeks went by and I added "Wild Thing". Wild Thing stuck.
I could write a thousand stories about Wild Thing. I have always had cats thrust upon me, not by choice. Once I have them, I fall in love with them and can not imagine life with out them.
Enter, Wild Again. My daughters cat. Once I stop calling the cat "Cat" and tag it with a name, I'm a goner.
Wild Again is a three legged cat. He lost his leg in an accident several years ago and somehow managed to live through the operation that saved his life. he is a blessed cat. And real purdy.
So, he has been hanging out at my house while Bridget gets her life back in order and I have been feeding this Wild Again thing and ever so gingerly been allowing it to go outside. I did follow the cat around, but he usually did okay and ran back when he got tired of hiding from me and I suppose it was just no longer any fun hearing me plead, "Kitty come back!!"
So finally I am comfortable with just letting him out and leaving the back screen open enough where he can run in.
Something must have happened out there yesterday. He is laying in the patch of sunshine that engulfs the back patio doors, but does not whine to go out.
He has eaten, but not like normal, which is his weight in dry food and a daily dose of the good stuff. He has laid around on the couch in the same spot for hours!!
He finally went outside and stayed for a few minutes,not nosing around, or running off to scare me.....
I guess I will let it go another day and if Wild Again is not acting Wild enough for me, I guess its vet time.
Phew.....I had forgotten about all this angst.