Some people have birds in a cage, some people have hamsters in a cage, some people even have large carnivorous snakes (some people!), but at the moment we have a cat in a cage. And he's decided he rather likes it.

It began about a month ago when I noticed that the Old Ginger Boy had trouble walking and was carted off PDQ to the vet. The vet did a scan and discovered that not only had he completely torn all the ligaments in his knee (or stifle) joint - but he had fluid on his lungs and they weren't too happy about his heart. Given his age, around 15, they didn't want to do anything surgical to the joint, and given his breathing they said that he must be immobilised for at least two weeks to allow the joint to become less painful and the ligaments to heal, as much as they ever would.

We were quite worried and I was totally stumped at first how to immobilise a cat - but the vet kindly let us borrow a large dog cage. After a few days I bought our invalid his own cage, and the confinement began in earnest.
He eventually took to it all quite well - though he did find it a bit undignified to have to use a litter tray again for the first time since he was a kitten, and while his aim was a bit random to start with - but he did have a mobility problem - he improved no end in a short time and got the hang of it very well. My feelings at being the constant loo attendant were not so positive……but a gal's gotta do what a gal's gotta do.

Now, several weeks later he can walk without a limp, and can indeed show a neat turn of speed when he escapes through an open door to exercise his lavatorial rights in the garden - (or more often the next door neighbour's garden …sssshhhhhh). He can also make it up the stairs at a good lick to get to his hidey hole under the spare room bed. And this is all before he's been given the all clear by the vet.

In fact, we think he now considers this cage - which provides such a lovely talking point in our front room - to be his own personal bedsitting room. He goes out to the food plates, uses the litter tray (if it's raining out) and then just goes back in his 'room'.
If visitors come, he barely cracks an eyelid because he has realised that no-one can get in to bother him. No matter what the size of their feet they can't tread on him, and when you're not that nimble, deaf and with not too sharp eyesight - that's a definite bonus. He's also starting to have "senior moments", when he gets up, marches out of the cage in a purposeful manner - only to stop dead after a couple of paces and stand, clearly wondering - 'Now where was I going……' But as I often do exactly the same thing, I'm not too bothered. He also has to have tablets for the rest of his life, but then he just loves pill,s especially in a dab of yoghourt, so no problem, there.

We think he's decided that it's a permanent fixture, and that an English cat's cage is his castle. We're not so sure, it would be nice to remember what colour the carpet is underneath there.

©Thelma Mitchell Aug.2005