No Bright Sparks Here

Poor Toffee. He's incredibly sweet, but, regrettably, he does not appear to have the largest of cat brains. Comparisons to our previous cat, Tarzan, who was possessed of a formidable intellect, are unavoidable at times, much as we try to suppress them.

Anyhow, the other day Toffee managed to fall right off our very high sundeck. Richard was trying to wipe his paw because it smelled of poo and in a fit of totally irrational terror ("eeks! Richard! eeks! Flee! eeks!") Toffee leapt up on the wet railing and slid right off, almost landing on the lilac bush on his way down.

What followed was a scene out of Keystone Cops, as Toffee, tragically possessed of a very lame leg, attempted to outwit, outlast, and outplay Richard in the back yard. I don't want to sound too unsympathetic about all this, but Toffee can be a very exasperating cat. Our theory is that having been a kitten stray, Toffee now has some weird ideas about People In General. When we first got him he would hide under the couch when the kids came thumping up the stairs (mind you, sometimes I do the same thing). Now he shies away a bit if they run at him, but otherwise he's almost serene at their noises. Almost. So why he would attempt to evade Richard the Emergency Cat Medic I don't know, but eventually Richard got a hold of him and brought him in.

And now Toffee seems to have a bum leg. It doesn't look broken, but it's obviously bothering him. He limps around quite a bit, but is otherwise purring and eating. He also wants to go out, but we won't let him, much to his disgust. I can't seem to impress upon him the necessity of waiting until he can actually walk properly.

The jury is still up in the air on whether or not we should further terrify him by taking him to the vet for a checkup. Sigh.