September 2006: Dexter. Backyard. Persistent. Adopted.
September 2007: Moses. Weeds at reservoir. Loud and fearless.
September 2008: Unnamed cat from campus. Grotesquely wounded.
He’s in the cat carrier, now. I’m off to the vet in a few minutes. My friend was showing me the cute, sociable kitten on campus, when he decided to do a Superman-type thing and landed face-first on concrete. He tore open his lower lip/face. It stopped bleeding soon, and he’s behaved pretty normally since then. No vets were open last night (except the $150-for-the-consultation-fee emergency service), but one told me on the phone he’d probably be all right. And sure enough he slept pretty much 13 solid hours, then at 7:00 began to destroy my bathroom.
No pictures, because his face looks… kinda horrific. But he is one of the yellow/orange stripey type cats. Maybe 8 to 12 weeks old? Young.
Hm. He’s stopped meowing. That won’t last once we get into the car.
I seriously do not go looking for these beasts, and stuff like this hasn’t happened between the Septembers. Sadly, I will not be keeping this little monster, either, even if (as I hope) he turns out healthy and not very seriously hurt. Two cats is enough.
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