I do believe that Charlie is feeling better. The hole in his bottom has gone from the size of a silver dollar to just under a nickel. His bottom is still tender, but over all he is feeling more like his ditty self.
Now, you might ask how I know this? Well, it goes like this.
Morning Routine: For the last week and a half, Charlie has calmly let my mom and I swab his butt with a cleansing solution and an antibiotic solution that stings. Not a sound of irritation has been uttered, just an cattitude of ‘fine, let’s get this over with.’
NOW, with his cone providing unwelcome wind resistance, he darts left, he darts right trying to evade the hands that would help him. Finally, after, wasted minutes swearing, we capture him. Holding him like a football under her arm, my mother firmly grasps his tail while swabbing and dabbing his bottom.
Charlie is not taking any of this quietly. He is yowling and hissing. That’s right folks. His is HISSING at the hands that feed and love him.
Finally the task is finished, the cat is released. Charlie swiftly removes himself from our presence with cat vengeance on his mind. If looks could kill, we’d be kitty kibble.
Only Quizz is safe from Charlie’s wrath.