This is Charlie. He is a 10.5-year-old Siamese mix. He’s a big boy, closer to the size of a small dog than a cat. I adopted him when he was two; he was classified as “special needs” because he was front declawed and was extremely intolerant of other animals, so he needed a home where he would be the only pet and never allowed to go outside.
Charlie may hate other animals, but he loves people. He is greedy for attention and will try to interrupt when I talk on the phone, sometimes by trying to butt his head between me and the phone. He is definitely a spoiled baby.
Two weeks ago, on a Saturday night, I came home from running errands and noticed that Charlie was limping. The limp had come on suddenly, just within the few hours since I had left the house. He was putting weight on it, just not his full weight. He seemed his normal self apart from that, and he was eating and drinking, using his box, going to all his favorite perches. I figured he had just jumped off something, landed wrong, and wrenched his leg. After Googling things like “can cats sprain their ankles” I was reassured that he wasn’t showing any signs of a serious injury such as a break, so decided to watch and wait.
After a few days, I was more worried. Charlie’s limp didn’t seem to be getting better, and his leg seemed like it might be more swollen, though it was hard to tell between his fur and how he was holding it, off to a funny angle. Plus, he was acting clingier than normal, wanting to sit with me more than usual. First thing Saturday, I took him to the vet.
