I introduced Owl to his special cat box last night by carrying him over to it and making him stand in it for a second. Only a second, as he promptly plopped down in it. So I carried him out and dusted him off, but I left him in the center of a triangulated area that includes the box, food and water so that he doesn't have to hobble far to reach anything.

However, Owl isn't showing interest in making *any* attempts to hobble. He's decided that having three legs is the same as having no legs and is imitating a large, furry slug. Not that I can entirely blame him, as I don't know how severe his pain might be. I can't give him more aspirin. It takes 72 hours to completely clear aspirin out of a cat's system (warning: only .81 mg of baby aspirin is safe and only under vet's instructions) and it must be cleaned out prior to surgery.

When I checked this morning, the special box had been used. Whether or not Owl used it is the unanswered question. I hope so.

I WISH they could do the surgery sooner!

I hate to do this, but this vet bill is coming at a very bad time, so I'm going to cyber-beg. I'm appealing to my fellow cat-lovers to donate to Owl's surgery. Anything would be a help right now.

Pay me securely with any major credit card through PayPal. My account is under:

I woke up before 7 am, consumed with worry. I found Owl lying right where I had left him, near the water bowl. I debated having to put him into a carrier, but it seemed the only safe recourse. I set up the carrier, carefully scooped up Owl, only to discover that Puck, Prince of Mischief, had jumped into the carrier to investigate and wouldn't come out. I had to put Owl down, remove Puck and try again.

I got to the vet's at the instant they opened and insisted on staying until someone could look at him. About 15 minutes later, my favorite vet motioned me to a room. "Come look at x-rays," she said. I knew it was going to be bad news.

It was very bad news. She brought in a book that showed an x-ray of what a cat's knee is supposed to look like, then showed me the x-ray of Owl's knee. The bones are horribly out of place. She said he has completely ripped most if not all of the ligaments and tendons. The only option is major orthopedic surgery.

"If this were a dog, he'd never walk again, but with cats and with this surgery, he will at least be able to get around."

It's so major, that she doesn't feel qualified to attempt it. She's going to call a couple of specialists in Fresno to see if *they* even want to attempt it. The fact that he's such a large, heavy cat complicates matters.

I have to go back now to pick up Owl. The vet wanted to run blood work on him to make sure he'll be okay for surgery given that he's now 10 years old. It's hard to believe I've had him for 6 years now.

I've also started calling around, asking neighbors about the dog. No luck so far.

The vet spent more time going over Owl's condition with me when I went to pick him up. His blood work was good with one somewhat significant glitch -- his blood sugar was through the roof. High normal is around 145 and he was at 262! She thinks he's borderline diabetic and the stress has goosed the glucose level, as it were. He'll have to be rechecked before surgery to make sure it doesn't stay that high.

She even brought out a model of a cat's knee to show me exactly what's happened. The ligament that is normally between the two knee bones is completely gone, the two side ligaments are ripped, and the only thing holding his knee together at the moment are the badly stretched tendons. The surgery will have to stitch all that that back together, resulting in a knee that will be considerably stiffer and less pliable (and hopefully without pain), but should at least work.

She connected me to a surgeon in Fresno who's done plenty of these and is very good, but charges half of what the other Fresno surgeon charges, so it will run between $600-$800.00 (not counting what today's bill was). I have the x-ray and blood test results in hand to take to the surgeon. Owl goes in Tues. night, has surgery late Wed. afternoon and has to spent Wed. night there, understandably.

Owl was an excellent boy for the whole trip. I let him out near the water bowl. He struggled out of the carrier and plopped down. He hasn't budged from there since. As soon as he got out of the carrier, he found an old bit of cat vomit with cat food in it and began eating it. I raced over with a bowl of food. He chowed down hungrily, then I gave him some canned food a bit later. His appetite is good enough, but I'm worried at not seeing him drink water.

I made a special cat box for him from an large cardboard box with the sides cut low to make it easy for him to get in and out. I hope he manages to use it.

I hate to do this, but this vet bill is coming at a very bad time, so I'm going to cyber-beg. I'm appealing to my fellow cat-lovers to donate to Owl's surgery. Anything would be a help right now.

Pay me securely with any major credit card through PayPal. My account is under:

Now I am REALLY pissed off and upset. Owl is injured and I'll have to get him to the vet first thing in the morning. I can only hope it isn't too serious.

When I first ran off the dogs and raced down to my office to check on the other cats, I saw Owl inside sitting upright licking his belly as he so often does. After that, I was totally focused on getting the other cats out of trees, then having to run off on our trip. We got home so late, I could barely stagger down to the office to give Querida her pill, clean the boxes and collapse.

This morning when I was giving out the pills and treats, I couldn't find Owl. I finally located him in a new, cozy hidey-hole inside an old box. He's such a secretive cat, that this didn't strike me as unusual, and he certainly prefers to avoid getting that pill in the morning. I decided not to bother him.

But as the day wore on, I slowly grew more concerned. He didn't come out once, not even when I put out canned food. I couldn't coax him out. Finally toward the end of the day, I decided something was definitely wrong. I carefully eased him out of the box and discovered he won't use his right rear leg at all. He's in a great deal of pain, doesn't want to move or stand up, cries if I try to move the leg. I did my best to check it out. I can't see any bite marks or obvious wounds. I suspect he could have hurt his hip or leg badly by having to rush too quickly through a cat door that he's just a little bit to big for.

I immediately called my vet, then another vet, but none of the vets up here will do after hours or emergency calls any more. I would have to haul Owl all the way down to Fresno (nearly an hour's drive) to an emergency clinic at extreme cost. The sad reality is that I can't afford it.

I gave him a baby aspirin before I went to have dinner. Since he may not have had water all day, I also squirted several droppers of water down his throat.

When I came down after dinner, I found Owl lying in one of the cat boxes. He must have needed to use it, then couldn't make the effort to get out again. I carefully eased him out, brushed him off and carried him over to the food bowls. I gave the moggies more canned food so that Owl could have some. He gobbled it down, which is a good sign.

Then I carried him over to the water bowl, hoping he'd drink some water. Instead, he has sprawled on the floor next to the bowl, clearly not wanting to move an inch.

It looks like he can move the leg a little bit, but he can't bear to put any weight on it whatsoever. And I am snarling mad at whatever useless jerk owns those dogs.

It was time to get the cats inside after lunch so we could hit the road for the Thanksgiving Day parental visit and dinner. I was in the bedroom when I heard a loud thumpity-romp-thump on the back deck. Far too heavy for a cat. I looked out the glass doors and there was a large dog right on the deck!

I was out those doors in a shot, yelling bloody murder. The dog and his buddy vanished too fast for me to see where they went, plus I was in my socks and couldn't go all that far without shoes. Randy heard me hollering and raced outside.

We found five cats were in the trees. Poor old Tribble, looking very distressed, and Sly were up one oak tree. Puck and Tosca were up another oak tree. Theseus was up yet another oak tree, though it took me a while to find him. I was furious. This was undoubtedly the same dogs that chased Uni and Theseus up the trees a few days before.

I've seen the two dogs way down below in the valley, but they're new to me and I have no idea who they belong to, since they don't belong to anyone within dozens of acres of me. I asked one neighbor down below, but he had no idea where they came from. The big dog is actually very pretty, a Great Dane-type that's mostly white with black patches. But pretty or not, he's on my hit list now.

We needed to leave by a certain hour in order to get there in time, so as the minutes ticked away, I did my best to coax cats out of trees. Randy got our highest ladder and put that against one tree trunk. Puck came down first, being young and bold. The rest weren't showing any interest in vacating the high places, thank you.

I found most of the other cats in the office, to no surprise, and was worried about Theseus until I finally found him in his tree on the back side of the office. I took a can of food and spoon outside and dinged the spoon against the can. That worked great for Tribble, who is Perpetually Hungry, and worked for Theseus, the Food Hog. They came in and got fed.

After about half an hour, Tosca began to work her way down the tree. I got up on the ladder, coaxed her over to me and managed to grab her by the ruff of the neck, sling her over my shoulder and carry her down to the office.

That left Sly, who was waaaaay up on the highest branch of the other oak tree. I took the ladder over and coaxed my heart out. He wasn't budging. Finally, we had to resort to Water Herding. I was too short, but Randy was able to aim a stream of water from the garden hose to the branches behind Sly. Bit by bit, we herded him down until he arrived at the lowest branch, slightly damp, where I could grab him.

So, miraculously, we got all the cats inside and still left on time. But I have to do something about those damn dogs.

I was watering bushes around the back yesterday, when Puck raced up in rocket mode and went straight up the oak tree. He explored the oak tree at length, way out and way out. He perched. I looked up to see Puck perched raptor-like on one branch and a bird on another.

This wasn't good enough for the Puckster, who worked his way out some branches and jumped onto the roof. He then explored the roof thoroughly. I had Randy come out to enjoy the spectacle. Randy was worried about Puck getting down. "Oh, he can get down," I assured him. Randy was in the act of getting the ladder when Puck leaped off the roof, sailed halfway across the deck and made a perfect landing on the railing. Randy was in awe. "I didn't know they could do that!"

Later, after I'd gotten the moggies inside and put out the midday treat of canned food, I realized a large food-hog was missing. Theseus was nowhere around. I began the search. I looked around the outside of the office. I called and called. I began my search of the outside of the house. As I came alongside the cars and called, I heard a truly *pathetic* meow. Theseus had gotten himself trapped inside the little wodden shed over the pressure pump, the same shed the poor rabbit got itself trapped in and died not too long ago.

Theseus must have gone inside while I was watering, because I have to open the small door in the shed in order to turn on the water to the hose. Then I propped it shut as usual and he was trapped. The door is about the size of the cat door and Theseus could barely squeeze himself through it. I'm very glad he has the sense to call out. I don't like to think of what would have happened otherwise.

As I headed to my office after lunch yesterday, I waited for the usual herd of cats to follow me down the hill. I looked around. No cats. "Pusskers," I called. Where were they?

Worried, I got inside the office and found what seemed to be every single cat not only indoors, but most of them were up on the highest shelves. I went outside to scout around, not really expecting to spot anything. It would be long gone by then.

Then Randy phoned. "We must have had something in the yard," he said. "Theseus is in the oak tree off the patio and Unicom is in the oak tree next to the bedroom."


We concluded it must have been dogs from the house at the bottom of the hill directly below us or a coyote. Last week, we had a baby bobcat in the yard. It wasn't a kitten, but it wasn't much larger than a big domestic cat yet. It was on one side of the driveway and Uni was on the other. Uni didn't run or climb a tree, though he did bristle to full size. Going up in trees is definitely a canine-threat response.

Randy propped a ladder on the one tree and got Uni down, figuring that Uni with his arthritis might need more help.

I stood under Theseus and urged him to come down. He blinked at me and didn't budge. I knew the best way to get him out of the tree was to leave him to his own devices, so I walked back to the office, calling Theseus as I went. Sure enough, about five minutes later he knocked at the closed cat door and scooted in.

I can understand why Theseus opted for the three rather than running to the office with the other cats given that he can barely get through the cat door at all.

Artemis was up to her bad old tricks while I was gone. My catsitter commented on how much water the cats were drinking. I had to inform her that the culprit is Artemis who has been fascinated with water from kittenhood. Mainly, she likes to bat the bowl around until all the water has sloshed out of it. I had to bring down a third brick so that the water bowl is now wedged in place with three bricks around it.

My catsitter is unable to give the anti-histamine pills to Owl when I'm gone. Even for me, it's a trick to do this and Owl won't let her get anywhere near him with a pill. I asked the vet if there was a liquid alternative and was told to try Liquid Benadryl for Children.

So I bought some. Cherry flavored. Last night, with high hopes, I filled a dropper and squirted it into Owl's mouth.

TOTAL DISASTER! He ran, he foamed and frothed at the mouth, and he threw up everything he'd eaten all day. He threw up at least three times, foaming profusely the whole time. I felt terrible. It's back to the pills, I'm afraid.

Owl's such a sweet boy that by today he had completely forgiven me.

I put some bird seed on the patio this morning after all the rain. I saw Tribble apparently eating the bird seed. When I went out to check, I discovered he was actually eating the very soggy remnants of some bread bits that I had put out *before* the rain. He is such a weird cat.

Uni and Nefreet had another tiff in the middle of the night, but I was too far into sleep to rouse myself from bed. There will never be peace between those two.

It must be something about the cold weather and the moggies spending more time inside, but I've had to break up a lot of fights. After an initial warning shot, I finally had to go after Puck with the Water Squirter of Doom.

Unicom and Nefreet are, as usual, the worst. I was about to get into bed two nights ago when I had to race into the kitchen and break up a nasty, screaming fight. Then I had to clean up after Nefreet who's standard response to being walloped by Uni is to pee. She left a large puddle on the kitchen floor.

At 3 am this morning, I was jolted out of a sound sleep by the two of them fighting and had to break it up. Around 7 am, Uni managed to muscle our bedroom door open and I had to get up again to deposit him back in the living room. Once we're ready to get up, we let him in to get on the bed and we have a love fest. But before that, we need sleep!

I need to be more vigilant with Querida's pill-treats, too. I put down a treat with her thyroid pill in it right in front of Querida, turned away for no more than two seconds and when I looked back, Diva was already scarfing it down. Diva is a treat-junkie like her mother, Tosca.