He was a tough bastard. From the wrong side of the tracks, from a broken home. His moods would swing wildly. Affectionate one minute, bad tempered the next. Is it possible for a cat to be bipolar or is it just cat-nature? We loved him nevertheless.
It was customary for Tommy to be away for a few nights at a time. He did what he wanted and who were we to stop him. However, I can remember vividly how worried we were when we didn't come home for over a week. Ordinarily, just as we would start to worry after two or three nights of his absence, taking it in turns to open the back door, shake the dry food box while calling his name, then we would catch a glimpse of his green eyes reflecting the house lights and he'd cross the threshold like a moody teenager, swagger to his spot in front of the fire and curl up as if nothing was wrong.
This time it was different. Something was wrong. 7, 8 nights away. He was certified missing.
He must have made it back to the relative safety of the garage. He was barely breathing with large patches of fur missing. The vet said that he had been hit by a car, and also, at some point been in a fight with another cat, as he had bite marks and claw wounds too. His left front leg wasn't able to be saved and was amputated. A six inch wound on the other front leg was stitched up.
Tommy slept in front of the fire, pretty much continually, for six months. He didn't leave the house at all. Slowly, he learnt to walk again. Us humans have teams of physiotherapists to help us back on our feet, but I guess animals have to figure it out for themselves.
The wounds healed and his strength returned. He was getting used to having three out of four limbs now, he relearned how to run, climb and fight. He fought with other cats and with us. He was back to his old self and we were grateful. My friend was back.
