Some aspects of human nature are very similar to those of Cat Nature. Take Winston the Wonder Cat for example. About a year ago Cathy noticed that Winston's left eye did not look normal. By the time Doctor Nice Man--that's what we call the Vet in an effort to brainwash Winston, by the time he got a good look it was definitely a case of Glaucoma. The left eye was gone and it was questionable how much Winston could see with the right eye. But nonetheless we began putting drops in his eyes, if for no other reason than to keep the pressure down and minimize any pain.
Winston did not seem affected for several months. The drops appeared to work and he went about his job as the main mouse trapper in the garage. Out here in the Deep Dark Forest we have an abundance of field mice. These wise little fellows do not care for open fields when there is a warm protected garage around.
And for some reason they really like digging into the insulation in the truck's engine. So Winston has a very important job as a member of the Jarvis household. His other two outstanding features are his ability to give you, "that look", when you call him. First the look, then the slow strut off in any direction other than yours, and of course he has a great survival instinct, seeking Cathy's lap anytime she makes one. He can stay on her lap for hours, if we'd let him. Me? About five minutes and he's had it. But he realized early on that it was Cathy's heart he'd need to win to become a full member in the home. So now she's hooked.
But back to the Glaucoma. Yesterday we declared Winston officially blind. He meowed at the garage door, wanting in, and when Cathy opened it he promptly walked into her leg. He looked a bit startled, but then turned and walked into the door.
"Winston's blind", Cathy called out to me. Sure enough, as we watched him pick his way across the mud room, the kitchen and into the living room, he would encounter objects he had always walked around, hitting them square on, jumping back, shaking his head and looking as if he would shinny up our leg for protection.
"Well," I said, "There goes our mouse insurance".
"Look again Bucko," Cathy advised, and sure enough, there on the garage mat was what was left of a field mouse. But Winston is doing what so many of our clients do when they first lose their vision. He is still trying to function as a seeing cat. I have begun counseling him, but it's too early to tell if my people skills can transfer to cats. Frankly I don't hold out much hope.
Curious Carl
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