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Frankie Weiss and Her MagicChapter Seven: Tales of Johnnie, Bobo & Momo |
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Going into the living room, Frankie was in the same position I left her, squatting. On my hands and knees, in touching her right hindquarter; not feeling any broken bones, she did not try to escape my probing fingers. Letting me massage her side, I felt somewhat relieved in the thought a muscle could have been strained in her flight to escape from the strange contraption trailing around Johnnie’s neck.
Deciding to take her to the Animal Hospital the next morning to have her checked and possibly X-rayed, later that day, I again, massaged her right quarter. Frankie did enjoy my hand doing that rubdown. But she was walking with a decided limp and that was not good for Frankie or me.
The next morning in looking at Frankie walking, I did not call the Hospital, wait a few more days, and let’s see how she feels. Possibly, it could be a muscle strain.
The few days have now turned into a month or so, and Frankie is almost normal again, she leaps and does anything that calls for the use of her right hindquarter. Meanwhile, Johnnie suffered little more than a shock to her dignity.
A lesson well learned, with guilt, no more plastic bags will be left lying around.
A Concert and A Heart Murmur
You read earlier in this “Magic” that my nephew's two cats had ruined some of his furniture with their front claws. He went to the local SPCA in 1995, adopted a pair of brothers, one blue gray, the other could be a twin to my Johnnie, excepting they’re males. So much for brotherly gene inheritance. I promised Steve, if he ever bought new furniture I would take Momo and Bobo, his cats to the Marlton Animal Hospital for their declawing. Shortly after the above incident, Steve called, he was buying a new leather sofa for the living room and did my offer still stand? I could not refuse him or go back on my word.
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