Cruel To Be Kind!
It is just over a week ago since Maslow, the furball baby, survived his race from the jaws of death (or Millie – next door’s otherwise adorable little dog) and five days since the operation to repair his cruciate ligament. It is amazing what vets can do with a piece of fishing line!
In truth, Maslow is convalescing well (fingers crossed) despite the humiliation of having to wear a cone (to stop him chewing at his stitches) and a huge dose of cabin fever, being confined to our smallest room in an attempt to stop him over-using his poorly leg in order to give him the best chance of healing.
But, as a consequence, it feels as if C and I have become benevolent gaolers. We don’t exactly force him to the back of his cell with a high-pressure water hose, but we do push our way in using an A3 sketch pad as a shield to prevent him dashing (or high-speed lolloping) for freedom as soon as the study door is opened.
On a daily basis (at least yesterday and today) we don our imaginary stab vests and riot shields and force entry with his cat box. We force him into said box – he is always somewhat reluctant – and whisk him back to the vets for an injection of pain relief. We like to keep our prisoner drugged – it makes him more compliant.
We slop him out and administer the equivalent of bread and water “little and often”.
Like Hannibal Lecter, Maslow craves nothing more than a room with a view. And, like Agent Starling, we spend time with him at regular intervals just to keep him company and to check he isn’t self-harming.
And all leave has been cancelled. We have had to forego a weekend in London with friends to tend to our prisoner.
- Maslow Is Feeling Needy (caughtinthemiddleman.wordpress.com)