I was out walking the dogs before work the other morning — it’s just about the first thing I do after I get up every day. On this particular day, I spotted a cat with strange markings. (Thankfully, the dogs did NOT spot the cat.)
The cat was a brown tabby with a white belly and white socks on three feet. The fourth leg — the back left one, if you want to be particular about it — was white all the way to the hip. But after I noticed the coloring, I noticed the way the cat was walking: very stiffly. He or she was limping on that white back leg.
And then I realized that the leg itself wasn’t necessarily white. The cat was wearing a cast from toe to hip.
And the owners still let him out for a morning constitutional.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. They had obviously spent money to help their cat recover from some attack or injury — as evidenced by the full cast. And yet they didn’t care enough about their cat’s life to keep him inside while he recovered? My mind whirled with all the possible dangers.
Let’s say a dog, another cat, or even a raccoon chased the cat. He can’t run normally, he’s limping on his injured and casted leg. Let’s say he wanted to try to climb a tree to safety. Can he even climb with that cast on? Even if there are no other animals around, the landscaping around my apartment complex is definitely NOT flat. That poor cat must have had one heck of a time trying to make his way around. What happens if broken-leg cat zigs instead of zags and ends up in the path of an oncoming car?
I don’t think domesticated pets should be outside unsupervised. There’s just too much potential for trouble — even with human family around to watch. Hopefully, broken-leg kitty managed to gimp back home… until the next time his family just lets him out to “play”.
I was going to call this one “How to NOT Help Your Cat Recover From Surgery”, and couldn’t choose between the two titles. It really bothers me how little some people think about the consequences of their actions when it comes to the pets who depend on them for survival.