Our orthopedic ward

Terry and I note, with some amusement, our version of Animal Hospital. We have a geriatric ward where the two old-lady cats live. When they come out of their apartment, we have to be very careful where we walk as they are slow moving around the floor.

We have an oncology ward, where Sadie lives--on a pile of straw outside my ground-level office.

And, finally, the orthopaedic ward with Charlie, who is doing quite well. It has not been fun for any of us, especially Charlie. He has a cast on his right back leg and is terribly off balance. His fractured left pelvis has knitted together enough that he puts weight on that leg (at first, he just pulled himself along with his front legs). We, or Charlie to be more exact, have had considerable challenges as he figures out how to pee and poop. I have rarely, since my babies were little, had to worry about poop. First, we worried that he couldn't poop. He can, he just doesn't, thus requiring a trip to the doc who irrigated little Charlie until he did.



As you can see, aside from the cast still on his leg, Charlie is doing well. He actually took the time to bite and scratch me today, which means he is feeling much better.

The cast may come off in four days.