The Doofus Humans

Last night, my brother and sister-in-law's cat, Pele (named for the soccer player not the Hawaiian goddess of fire) fell off a balcony. A few hours ago, Pele sent me an email explaining what happened.

Hello:

You know me as Pele, the handsome gray feline that lives with two humans, Gasa and Jim. I want to tell you about my adventure on the evening of 4 May.

Much like any other nice day, when the female human comes home she opens the door to the balcony so that my PITA brother (Banks, who is gray and white) and I can take in a little fresh air and watch the sparrows build nests in the building air vents. Everything was routine. We came in to eat dinner and hang out with the humans. Except, when it got dark the two doofus humans forgot that the screen door to the balcony wasn't closed.

Instead of my usual practice of heading to the bedroom to lounge on the bed for my evening nap, I snuck out onto the balcony. Lord knows what possessed me...a desire to catch whatever was flitting about in the night air, a curiosity about what was on the other side of the fence (who knew I'd fit through the slats), a scientific experiment about a cat's righting ability during a fall, a sense of adventure...but I flew through the night air without benefit of a parachute. There I went, five stories down. Lucky for me and my pinpoint precision, I landed on a bush and not the concrete privacy panels that are located in front of the first floor apartments.

Here's the real rub, the doofus humans didn't even realize I was gone. Finally, at about 9:30 at night, wondering where I was, having checked in cabinets and closets, under the bed and on dining room chairs and out in the hallway, they decided to search the area below. The male human spotted me, the female human pulled me out from under the bush. Sure glad it was nice weather as I was out there a while.

The humans carried me upstairs. I decided to be stoic, and besides I was starving, so I had a snack of crunchies and a drink of water. I didn't want to show them my limp, but it was hard to hide. Next a series of calls to find the closest emergency vet. Have I told you how much I hate the cat carrier and a ride in the car. Thank goodness it was only a mile to the vet's ER. Ugh, this place had dogs waiting in the ER. So they checked me out. Probing and xraying...I was exhausted. So much so that I was falling asleep in the carrier. Who ever thought THAT could happen?

I was free and clear of contusions and seem to have no broken bones. There is one the vet was having the surgeons look at this AM but she thought it wasn't new. (I kept trying to tell her it is an old sports injury.) My jaw is in tact so I can eat if I can figure out how to bend down to the bowl with this goofy purple wrap on. I almost declawed myself on one claw on my right paw and the jury is still out on whether it has to come out.

The vet, who just arrived in town from Manhattan and is accustomed to seeing animals that have fallen, said that falls below seven to nine stories usually don't end well because we don't have enough time to right ourselves. So I count my self as extraordinarily skilled, or lucky, and figure I used up one of my lives.



Back to the goofy purple wrap on my right paw. I keep shaking but it won't come off. Now I'm licking around the edges. The vet wanted me to use newspaper for a litter box for a while. Forget IT!! I'm on meds for a while too. A pain killer and some antibiotics. Too bad the pain killer was only prescribed for 24 hours. The vet said it might make me sleep more than usual, but that's hard to believe since I sleep so much anyway. My brother, the gray and white puss, keeps trying to groom me. Ick! And the humans feel pretty damn bad. The worst part is that we aren't allowed on the balcony anymore.

So I'm writing to tell you I should come through this and would appreciate accolades for landing well. Photos enclosed to garner appropriate sympathy.

Pele

I still can't figure out how he managed to type with only one good paw.