There are a few other happy things going on this week that I could write about - Abby’s Spring Concert, the school’s spring fair, Berta’s trip to help her sister move, and the kids’ going to a musical with my mom - but I’m finding it difficult to enjoy any of this fun stuff or even concentrate on work since yesterday afternoon.

Berta noticed that Deimos had escaped the house on Tuesday evening. He has been doing this a lot. He’ll sit, waiting for someone to open the door, and spring out, often even darting between your legs. I’m not sure what his obsession with outside is, but when he can’t make his escape he’ll sit at each door, front and back, and meow for a good long while. But he ran out the front door on Tuesday night when Berta came in from a short shopping trip, and we didn’t think to look for him outside before we went to bed.

Wednesday around lunch time, I was headed out to a quick stop at the bank when I found Deimos on the front porch. He was laying there licking himself, and wouldn’t get up to come inside. I picked him up and put him in the house, and that’s when I saw that he was limping. His back right paw was causing him some discomfort.

I followed him into the house. He climbed up into his cat tree, which took him a lot longer than usual, and he made these pitiful noises while he did it. He curled up and fell asleep there. His back paw would flinch every time it came in contact with anything, and it was pretty clear to me that he was really hurt.

After the kids came home, he left the cat tree and went upstairs, but I think this cost him. He climbed into the cat tree in our bedroom, but the bed was too small and kept bothering his foot, so he eventually climbed back down and hid under our bed. He’s been there since last night, and hasn’t come out for anything.

The neighbors have been talking about some general cat violence going on in the neighborhood. Their cat came home a few nights ago and couldn’t lift his tail anymore. They suspect there’s another bully cat in the neighborhood. If so, I hope Deimos gave this other cat wounds in kind. I’d hate to think there was some person who had done something cruel to our cat after finding him roaming free outside, but there are a couple of candidates in my mind that I can’t dismiss. I suppose I’ll just keep those thoughts to myself for now.

Yesterday I was hoping that this injury was something he could walk off. And while it still might be, I don’t think I can let it sit untreated any more. I’ve never seen Deimos behave like this. It’s like all of the vitality has left him. This cat would routinely jump all over the place and make a general nuisance of himself, but in a playful way. He’d come in my office nearly every day with a toy, looking to play. But since last night, he hasn’t moved even to drink or eat.

So, assuming Berta hasn’t called it in already, I think I’ll talk with the vet about seeing him. He’s “my” cat, of the two cats, the one that’s friendly to me and not Berta or the kids. Not that I don’t like Phobos, but he’s certainly more Berta’s cat than mine. Deimos is too dog-like. I swore I wouldn’t get another dog for exactly this reason, and here we are again. These pets are worse than kids – at least the kids can tell you what hurts and how badly and will sit still for you when you want to examine them. I can only hope that whatever’s wrong with Deimos is something that will heal.