It was another uneventful night with Rufus. He showed a little more energy yesterday evening, especially when he got a new visitor: the lawyer who’s going to step in if we need him.
This morning, Ru decided to go up the stairs on his own, probably chagrined by the fact that I’ve been carrying him up since yesterday. Since he doesn’t have any stitches to worry about, his bounding up the stairs is more a factor of leg strength and confidence, I think. (I noticed last night that he actually keeps his injured leg up when he walks down the stairs. Smart boy.)
I’m glad that he’s more comfortable up here, because I can get a lot more work done in my upstairs office than I can in the rec room. In fact, I have so many pages ready — and he and I are going so stir crazy — that we’re going to make the trek out to my workplace this morning, so I can get our June issue (mostly) out the door, clear up last-minute changes with my production manager, and let co-workers come by and give Rufus a hug/pet/scratch of encouragement.
I’ll also do my best to make sure the bandages and sterile pads are completely covering up his wounds. I took everything off and rebandaged him this morning, and realized that some people may get sick, run screaming, or faint dead away at the sight of his wounds.
We’re also going to have to find a medical supply store that will sell us a TON of self-adhesive wrap, as we’ve depleted the stocks of our local drug stores and supermarkets. As ever: oy.
Glad the boy is on the mend, and a change of venue/scenery usually does a world of good for everyone.