We never noticed anything wrong with her eyes, there was no sign of an attack, and she did not have the dreaded kitty smell, but somehow it happened. River and I need one of those apps that show us if our parents are behaving or in danger when they leave the house. It has to be programmed to allow us to bark at them if danger, such as a cat eye attacker come near them.
Wednesday morning we got up with the sun, did our business, but did not get breakfast. I was placed in my crate while River, once Mommy escaped her grasp, paced the kitchen floor on an empty stomach until my parents returned a long two hours later.
Mommy came home wearing a patch over her eye. Whoever attempted to fix the damage caused by the cat attack turned her into a pirate. Daddy helped her in the chair. Then we learned, as Daddy began to make breakfast, our family was facing another terrible calamity. Daddy would be in charge of the house! Only Mommy knew how to make our food right, how to take care of us, how to keep our house shipshape. Now`our Mommy was a pirate, and the fool whose only job was to keep us amused and pick up our poop was in charge of the house.
Somehow he got their breakfast made, and then, after 1,000 hours, our food was presented to us. He told us we had to be gentle with Mommy for the first couple of days. After eating River jumped up and shoved her sniffer right in Mommy’s eye patch. Sometimes her need to smell supersedes her common sense.
I was going to have to become Mommy’s top nurse, and I had big paws to fill. Foley had seen Mommy through two knee replacement surgeries and breast cancer. Foley visited me in my dreams and told me I had to make sure my butt was always touching Mommy, so she knew I was there. I have been trying, but I will never be the nurse Foley was. And River has assumed the role of her protector barking at every sight or sound anywhere near the house no matter how many times Mommy begs her to stop.
So far we are managing. Daddy is working hard to make sure we are fed, and the house is kept clean according to Mommy’s strict standards. Sometimes, after Mommy makes him wash the same spot ten times until he gets it right, I hear him softly weeping in fear, but I can’t be bothered. I am Mommy’s chief nurse and have big responsibilities.
The good news is the surgery happened on a Wednesday, and it is already, wait, its Thursday? Has it only been a day? We’re never going to make it.
Send lifeboats. If Mommy doesn’t stop being a pirate soon we are going to sink.