I thought Minnie was dead when I saw her leg sticking out of the crack in the barn door. We hadn’t seen her all day and were worried because the sounds of a cat fight woke us up around 4am. When both she and Flo didn’t show up for the afternoon feeding, I started seriously looking around. Poor Minnie, she was hiding in the hay bales, not dead, but not wanting anyone to find her either. I reached into the small space and pulled her out by the scruff of her neck. She didn’t utter a sound or move a muscle. I held her close to me hoping I wasn’t hurting her. Minnie’s rear leg dangled like it had nothing to do with her.
Now it’s dark out and in my mind I’m seeing Minnie as we left her at the Vet, drugged after the x-ray with her leg wrapped in a tiger striped bandage. Tiger she is, she got away from what ever bit her and damaged her leg so bad we’ll probably have it amputated. We think it may have been a Tom cat that went after Minnie, but we don’t really know. We do know that tonight Minnie’s safe and we put Flo in the basement, just in case, what every it is, comes back.
I’ve known a lot of three legged animals and they all seem to do fine. Its like they don’t know they’re supposed to have four legs. And as sweet as Minnie is, she’s also tough. A few days ago I caught Minnie and Flo sitting together on the same rocking chair. Seems like things are always changing. Sometimes the changes are small, sometimes big. I don’t know what this change will bring. But I know right now I’m feeling really protective of Minnie and I’m going to do everything I can to make her life as good as possible once she gets home. Sweet Minnie, tough Minnie, I have a feeling , eventually, she’s going to be just fine.