His foot looked better still under all the bandages, but unfortunately not better enough to be bandage free yet. She said another week, maybe two. Sad face. This of course means that I have to keep wrapping it, but both Gyan and Steph are in Portland at a conference. I'm not entirely sure how this will go by myself. I'm assuming pretty terribly for everyone. But also somewhat amusingly. He of course refuses to walk on his foot again after doing so well yesterday on it.
Chester's become pretty insistent on his "nighttime walks" out into the hallway. His newest facination is with all my neighbours' doors. Yesterday he saw something (read: nothing) run under one of their doors and decided to bat at it, making a knocking sound. All I could think was "Well, this will be awkward and hard to explain if he [neighbour man] comes out" Luckily, he never did.
I've been opening the door to the less used stairwell in the building too. Chester will hesitantly enter it and go up or down a couple stairs, then run back to me where I'm holding the door. Maybe I'll get a door stop and take him on a stroll to some higher floors one of these days. I used to train animals at the zoo in undergrad, and developed a firm belief in enrichment. My apartment is tiny and sitting on the couch all day with a bit of cuddling and batting at toys just won't lead to a fulfilling life. Getting to explore new things (safely) is much more of what a cat needs. Plus I figure, Chester must have been terrified for a vast majority of his life. (I'm just assuming living on the streets practically paralyzed is scary) The fact that he's at all willing to explore new scary places should not be discouraged. And, it's everything Gyan and I dream of to be able to have a cat on a harness that you can take for walks. If that somehow comes out of this (and I highly doubt it) then all the better.
Chester's eyebrow whiskers are falling out, and a few of his nose ones too. For a few days, his pads of his paws were really white too. Well, they were white in the mornings, turning increasingly more pink as the day went on. I have no idea what those things are about. The vet chalked it up to strange things popping up after the whole near death experience thing. He's still acting fine.
So fine in fact, that he keeps gaining weight! He's up to 4.9kg The fat little cheese log. He's officially on a diet. It's funny. I spent 6 months trying to make him gain any sort of weight, or even eat. And in 1.5 months he's gained an entire kilogram. It's amazing what repositioning your organs can do for your appetite. We switched him from raw and wet food to kibbles after we found out about the need for the second surgery and how broke we were going to be for the rest of our lives, but there's a bit of money left in his account (yes, he's had his own bank account since we adopted him) from fundraising, so I think it's time to start incorporating better food into his meals again. It's not like we can even try to pretend that he isn't the most spoiled kitty in the world anyway. Might as well keep it going.