Freddy - back in Jugg agayne!

I had plans for this morning. They involved doing my physio exercises, making a stew for this week’s dinners, having a leisurely breakfast and setting off in good time to meet friends at Cambridge station to go up to London to see King Lear at the National Theatre. They did not involve a trip to the emergency vet.

However, when I got up Freddy did not rush to greet me demanding fuss as is his wont. I looked around, couldn’t find him and assumed that he had not come home last night. A little worrying, but something he does occasionally in the Summer.

Then as I glanced into the back bedroom I noticed him sitting quietly on a floor cushion. I went to say hello, and he got up to be stroked, which was when I discovered that he was limping badly on one hind leg and couldn’t in fact put his foot on the floor. Cue a visit to the vet, who discovered a deep cut on the top of the foot, though no broken bones, and a slight fever. Then cleaning, bandaging, antibiotics, anti-inflammatory juice, and a great deal of protestations from monsieur. So now he’s confined to the back bedroom until the foot heals up. Antibiotics twice a day, anti-inflammatory once a day, and absolutely no going outside. But he seems better already, in that he can now put the foot down and limp around on it. I am hoping that the bandaging will last until Wednesday, when I have to take him to my normal vet for a check up. I’m not betting on it, though.