Waiting games

[oloriel]

'náro has, so far, been a perfect patient. He's been cleaning himself, but left the stitches alone; he's been feeding, but taken predominantly liquids; he's been moving, but only to turn from one side to the other (avoiding bedsores), reach his food, or heave himself into the litterbox (!); and he's allowed me to give him his meds. Returning from his first vet check-up yesterday, he first hid behind the scratching post; later, apparently searching for human warmth and a hiding space, he crawled over the matress on which Felix was napping and then curled up on the shelf behind it. (Floor level, so that's all right, even though it meant the end of Felix' nap...) In other words, he's been extremely and unexpectedly reasonable and patient.

He spent the night - well, the beginning of it - in his playpen. And then this morning I come into the living-room - no 'náro anywhere.
Jörg eventually found him in the normal cat litter (that is, in another room). We have literally no clue how he got there. That is, once he was out of the playpen, it was a relatively simple matter of limping from the living-room into the kitchen, and from there into the space between kitchen and bathroom, where the litterbox is located. But how did he get out of the playpen? He either jumped out, which would have been a terribly stupid idea, or managed to squeeze himself through the bars of the playpen, which might not have been such a good idea either with his repaired hip. Haven't been able to check for obvious damage yet because he is now asleep in the litterbox, probably exhausted after his nightly exertions.

(Interestingly enough, he always does these things when the painkillers are wearing off. When Jörg picked him up at the clinic, the vet told him that if the cat got too jaunty, we should simply give him less painkillers, that'd curb his enthusiasm. But my impression so far is that the painkiller makes 'náro sleepy and docile, but when it's beginning to wear off, he gets restless. The better he gets, the more restless he gets, and this night he was clearly bored enough to break out of the playpen. Don't ask me why, he's got everything he needs in there, except for live mice. Which he won't find in the kitchen - or litterbox - either.)

Silly boy, I just hope he didn't hurt himself (further).

On the other side of the house, uncanny silence. They must have received a couple of "friendly" letters from our lawyer (both on previous issues and about 'náro) but the only reaction we've observed so far is that Mr. Tenant has taken a couple of photos of the house, drove off at his usual speed, returned an hour later, and mowed the lawn.
...
We've taken legal steps; here's hoping they won't take illegal steps.

Baby-wise, no news either - occasional "practice labour", but nothing serious. That's reasonably OK, after all it's a week to go until the "due date" and right now I feel more comfortable at home, except that Jörg's on vacation now (and can't take it any later). Hospital visit a few days ago (for standard CTG) was unpleasant (their machinery was apparently completely overtaxed by the combination of Braxton-Hicks contractions AND baby movement, so I had to take a walk and come again for another CTG and that was too quiet and then I had to stay another half hour until they were satisfied that it was just unusual readings/ bad timing rather than something pathological, which I could've told them all along, but of course you get nervous when hospital personell get all "Hmm, not sure what to make of this, but we can't let you go home yet". Fuck you too.

In conclusion, things are tense and I foresee a repeat of last time's post-partial frustration, just for different reasons this time.