Writing about my adventure with crutches, reminded me of an adventure with casts. A cat in a cast that is.
We had a tabby cat, one of many while I was growing up, and in those days, pets were free to explore the neighborhood and do whatever they pleased. Occasionally a dog might get loose too. No one was upset about it, usually.
Anyhow, our cat had an unfortunate encounter with a dog. Fortunately my Mom saw it and saved the cat. But the dog had broken the cats hind leg.
My Mom was only 4 feet 5 inches tall, but man, you did not mess with her. And when she wanted something, you were going to comply, or die.
The cat sported a cast for a long while, which kept us awake at nights. As we all know, cats love to torture their owners (they have a diabolical streak) and he would run up and down the stairs and across the kitchen floor, all night long. Thump, thump, thumpety, thump!
Now, back to Mom. She wasted no time finding out whose dog that was that committed this crime and the owners were going to pay the vet bill. And get a piece of her mind too.
The dog belonged to a world famous photographer that lived by the river near us.
With me in tow, we marched straight over there.
The woman, I presume it was the photographers wife, tried very, very hard not to part with any money for any vet bill. At first she invited us into her home and immediately regretted it, as Mom was not going to take any shit from her!
It was an awesome home. I’ll admit that.
I don’t know if Mom got the money but the cat got better. Eventually we all got some sleep.