Cone cats

Tisha had an abscess last week, and it had to be surgically removed, so he came back home with a stitched-up wound on his neck, a drain sticking out of it, and the dreaded Cone of Shame. We put the cone on him almost as soon as we got him home, and he instantly became disoriented and demoralized.

Since then, he’s become more used to the cone. He bumps into things less frequently, generally speaking, though he still staggers every time he shakes his head, and he occasionally falls off the furniture. He’s also become much more cuddly since he’s had the cone on. I suspect he just craves some security and protection now that he’s feeling so vulnerable. I certainly would.

When he sleeps, he can’t curl up anymore because the cone would get in the way. So instead of he sleeps flat out like a catloaf, with his chin (in the cone) resting on the ground, the bed, or my arm (if it’s there). It’s strangely endearing. Last night he rested the cone on my arm and one large paw on my hand, and purred loudly.

Yesterday, Erik took him to get the drain taken out. They said he was exceptionally well behaved, but his wound was healing slowly. They put an additional bandage around his neck, and he has to continue to wear the cone. This is a good thing, because I think the bandage is itchy. He keeps trying to scratch at it with his hind feet, which would be disastrous if the cone didn’t get in the way. As it is, he just ends up kicking the cone repeatedly. It makes a very odd plasticky sound, to which we are becoming accustomed to hear.

The cone makes Tisha walk funny. His gait is much more rolling, and he bobbles his head from side to side, easily and rhythmically, like a blind man’s cane moves from side to side.

We’ve started calling him Cone Cat.

Lyapa seems to be suffering the most from Tisha’s misfortune. She’s still constantly grumpy and quick to lash out, and yet every night she wants to come sleep with us. She’ll jump up onto the bed, grumbling, walk over our heads, try to get under the covers, and then jump off the bed, only to return and repeat the entire process in a few minutes. If she does manage to get under the covers, she grumbles again — and sometimes swipes — every time anyone moves. Erik is a much lighter sleeper than I am, and this repeated jumping and walking and complaining makes him crazy. Since Tisha came back from the surgery, Erik has gone to bed with me every evening, and then left me in the middle of the night to go sleep in the guest room. We haven’t slept well at all.