Back To Normal

As I walk past my daughter's bedroom on a sunny afternoon, I glance in and there he is, stretched out across the sunny sheets in all his resplendent feline glory, reveling in a luxurious and delightfully cozy  nap.

And I smile to myself as I head down the stairs. Every single thing in Sirius's world is perfectly normal. 

Which is a lovely turn of events, because for the last 48 hours, they have not. 

* * * * *

It all began around 3 a.m. on Saturday night - or, I suppose, early Sunday morning. My fourth-born was going about her normal routine when from out of doors, she suddenly heard a notable sound. 

The unmistakable sound of a cat staking his claim. 

It wasn't a fight per se; she heard just one cat's voice. But in an instant she knew who was speaking.

Sirius. 

She dashed down the stairs and out into the backyard, my second-born and I trailing along, piecing together the story as we went. We all spilled out into the heavy summer night air, and my fourth-born put voice to her most enticing kitty calls. 

Sure enough, within sixty seconds, ka-fwump, Sirius hopped down from the fence and landed with a thump in our garden, then headed right for her. She scooped him up and we all went inside. 

A quick going over yielded a happy result - no wounds, no blood, no apparent injuries. He calmly allowed us to examine his every inch. But we noticed a slight limp and the wild eyes and edgy, wound-up behavior of a cat who has had a close encounter of some kind. Ah well, off to bed with our furry fellow, and we left notes and texts for my husband, who handles morning cat duties, to please keep Sirius in for further observation. 

Which he did.

But by midday, I knew we had a problem on our hands. 

Sirius, darling kitten, is a sweet, poetic sort of cat. He loves to spend time outside, napping under a drift of daylilies, sitting primly on the front sidewalk, or lounging like a lazy leopard on a fence post, dreamily watching the world go by. And here's the kicker - in those rare occasions when he is feeling a bit off, he seeks his out of doors comforts more than ever. 

Which he was now doing. 

Meowing, pacing, beseeching first me and then my husband to please, Please, PLEASE! let him go outside, he finally broke me down. By 2 p.m. I opened the slider to the back patio, murmured a brief prayer over his silky black head as he rushed out the door, scooted under the table, and disappeared beneath the hydrangea. 

Did I mention this was happening during our unseasonably hot weather? 

Granted, the low 90s F are not exactly considered scorchers in many parts of the world, but this was a Pacific Northwest heatwave.

So I kept the water bowls and pet pools refreshed with plenty of cool water, and waited for my kitten to come home. 

Which he did. 

Normally, Sirius goes in and out often. After a few hours outside, he's ready to come in for a snack and a house nap. Several hours later, he's ready to go out again, and the process repeats until dark when - other than a brief potty break around 3 a.m. - he stays inside. 

But now the pattern was going something like this:

Disappear for 8 hours. 

Show up limping and skittish, eat ravenously, stay inside for a half hour max. 

Cry piteously to go back out. 

We knew Sirius was okay. 

We also knew he was not quite right. 

And we knew that there was very little we could do about the fact that he was going to stay outside to nurse his wounds until he was good and ready to return to his normal routine.

Which he finally did.

We had just finished dinner on the front patio when Sirius popped up out of the garden and strolled over, as he often does, to say hello. 

We noticed the limp was gone.

We observed that he was his calm self again. 

When we stacked up our dishes and went into the house, he happily followed along.

And that was the end of it. 

* * * * *

In the days since, our Sirius still loves to be outside. He prances through the grass, sleeps on the shady patio stones, rubs his back on the driveway. He is so happy to be out in the sunshine and fresh air. 

But I'm happy to say that Sirus is once again enjoying his indoor activities - he snoozes on his favorite blankets, sleeps on the wool rug by my bedroom door, and wreaks havoc on his cardboard scratching toy.

In other words, Sirius is back to normal, and I am glad.