For the record, if you have an active cat or kitten you may want to reconsider the use of the mice-on-a-string that are commonly tied to doorknobs and whatnot. I learned this one the hard way.

Since it was the last weekend before Lent, I decided to give myself a treat on Sunday so I went to early Mass and then drove west to take pictures. I ended up a few miles into West Virginia before I turned around, and was gone from my apartment about thirteen hours. I’m not usually gone that long, but I do have enough fifteen- and sixteen-hour days that such a period isn’t infrequent either, and I’ve never worried about leaving Emily alone that long.

So you can imagine my reaction when I got home to discover her tangled up in her dangling mouse toy.

She liked to get up on the shelves next to the door and dive down after the toy, and apparently she managed to do it in just the right way to wrap the string completely around her left hind leg. The toy itself caught on the leg in a manner similar to the way that heavy weights are used to anchor otherwise unsecured ropes. The end result was that Emily ended up hanging from the toy by that leg, and was unable to free herself. Fortunately, she could put her front paws on the floor.

By the time I got home, she had apparently decided yelling didn’t help. She didn’t start making any noise until she heard my footsteps in front of the door (she usually starts as soon as she hears my footsteps coming up the stairs), but when she did the noise was a loud yowl of obvious pain. Everything within reach inside had been pulled down onto the floor, which meant I could only open the door about six inches the first time I tried.

That was enough for her. She squeezed herself through that six inches, howling – now that someone had finally responded – and obviously very panicked. She was also fighting in the way of a trapped animal, so it took me several seconds to unwind her. It took about a good minute more to shift things around enough to completely open the door. Once I got through, a second look at her left me panicked: she was trying to get up and the leg kept collapsing underneath her. When I tried to feel it for possible breaks, it hurt her so much she actually bit me. Needless to say, there was an immediate trip to the emergency vet service.

She was lucky. According to the vet’s estimate she’d only (!) been hanging for two or three hours, and circulation had not been entirely cut off. She also had not broken the leg, but it was horribly swollen – the source of the pain – and probably also sprained at the hock. We were sent home with a painkiller/anti-inflammatory to treat it and a mild sedative to keep her quiet (since this is the same kitty that was running laps around the apartment four hours after being spayed). Sunday night she slept on the bathroom floor; apparently the cool tile felt good against the swollen leg.

By Monday, she was walking on the leg though with a bad limp and considerable pain. That night she simply could not find a comfortable position anywhere. Last night she was feeling better enough to make a short running dive at my ankle, but it got aborted with a loud painful meow. (I’ll admit I wasn’t really sympathetic as it was her own fault.) Today she is walking normally, but she is still much more sedate than usual and she won’t go near the door where the dangling mouse used to be.

Emily’s the third cat I’ve had, all since kittenhood, but this is the first time I’ve ever had one injured in a household accident. I felt a little bit like a bad cat-mom, but the vet reassured me that no one can ever foresee everything in advance – and I did immediately get medical help, even though I had to ask for a payment arrangement. Still, it made me worry…what if it had been her neck or if she hadn’t been able to put her front paws on the floor? What if tissue had started dying? I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep Sunday night.

Like I said, she’s doing much better, but I still keep going over the apartment with an eagle eye. I thought I had successfully catproofed it (tightening cabinet hinges so that they aren’t easily opened, tying up dangling cords, etc.), but this is ample evidence that cats can be like children: no matter what you do, they’ll always find something to scare grey hairs onto your head. I’m just thankful it turned out to be minor.

(And if anyone’s wondering, the pictures were not uploaded until last night. There were more important things going on.)