Bean Sidhe is awfully silent these days. You greet him in the morning, and his furry cherubic face would split open in the wide smile we have come to know and adore, and out comes… nothing. Not even a squeak. Clearly he was about to emit his cheerful “meee-eee-eee-eee-w-eee-w-ew-ew-eew” and like us he suddenly notices something is wrong. Snap! says the snout and a mucho bewildered kitty stares at us with forlorn eyes. No cheerful ditty.
This sudden loss of voice needed inquiry, and so the hapless kitten, al 4,5 kilos of his, was firmly but gently taken into The Mistress’ arms and a thorough inspection was performed on his furry chubby form. An indication as to what may have happened was soon discovered: apparently he got hurt, and terribly so, and must have screeched his little lungs out and his vocal cords into oblivion. Was it a fight ? No other marks were visible. Was it an accident ? Possibly. A deep scratch mars the perfection of his white inner thigh-pelt and a wad of fur had already formed to top it off. Said wad was instantly popped open by The Mistress’ inquisitive thumb-nail and it revealed the gash that was underneath.
Now, a wound in the inner thigh can look spectacular but isn’t really that bad. There is lots of loose skin there and in Bean Sidhe’s case only the layer of skin seems to have been breached, not the muscles underneath. Thus next The Mistress did what every sensible cat-servant does when confronted with an open wound: she sniffed at it, checking it out for infection – which has a rather distinct smell, as everyone who has ever lanced an abcess can tell you. Nothing smelled amiss however, the wound seemed to be clean, adding strength to the hypothesis that it must have been an accident. Cats’ claws and teeth are filthy and always lead to abcesses. In this case only a dollop of isobetadine liquid was needed in order to disinfect the wound and our little furry patient was subsequently left to his devices.
Such a neat and pleasant patient too ! Bean Sidhe submitted meekly to my gentle ministrations and even when I hurt him by probing and inspecting the wound he would only place his paws on my cheeks with the hint of a threat from his claws, but his heart wasn’t really in it. He’s such a darling ! And when I used the isobetadine salve on his wound this morning he just let me be at it and made no fuss at all. I wish all our feline denizens were like him. His lack of voice added to his misery though, since he could not voice his protest as is his wont. There’s just a croak. A feeble one. Poor Bannikins…
It’s been 3 days now since we discovered his injury and he still hasn’t got his voice back. But what he is most definitely not is pathetic. Oh no, apart from him needing a bit more sleep than usual, I’ve rarely seen him so feisty as in the past few days, playing with the other cats all the time and generally being the holy terror he usually is – albeit a bit more so. It is as if he wants to forget his pain by immersing himself in pleasureful activities. Even Zorro, the mean grumpy cat-hating feline, has proved to not be immune to the little one’s charms and has deigned to engage in boisterous play with the kitten. No fights whatsoever, which mightily amazes -and delights- the simian denizens of the House of Chaos. There’s just a lot of cat-me-if-you-can all over the place. Zorro has never been seen playing with fellow felines before and it was a marvel to behold.
We did have to wipe away a tear though. The day before yesterday we saw Bean Sidhe playing with Zorro the latter’s well-known “jack-in-a-box” game, which Zorro used to play with the late woofie Fenris exclusively. But instead of Zorro hiding in a box it was Bean Sidhe who was tucked away in the laundry basket. Zorro would then saunter by, all innocence and ignorance of the dire fate awaiting him, and Bean Sidhe would jump out and “scare” the older cat. Just like in the old days with Fenris. Back then it was Zorro who would jump on the 40-kilo German Shepherd who would then act suitably spooked. On and on they played it, all day long. And now it seems Zorro has finally gotten over his hostility against fellow felines and has taught the game to the youngster. Oh joy.
Still, it left somewhat to be desired. When he played with Fenris Zorro would also emit fearful sounds to add to the spookiness of the game. Bean Sidhe, at the moment literally speechless, has to do it mute.
But maybe that is the trick that turned the old cat-hater friendly. Maybe, because Ban-Ban can’t make growling and screeching sounds at the moment, does the older cat not feel threatened. It might be the lack of voice means lack of menace and the older cat feels more secure because of that.
I’d better not administer the honey then.
Bean Sidhe (in sign language): “Boo”
Zorro: “Yup, I’m scared”