I mentioned in a post last week that my cat, Oscar, spent a subzero night outside after sneaking out the back door when we went to walk Levi. Although this was technically his fault, it still made me feel like the worst kitty mom ever. And now I feel even worse, because my poor Oscar has frostbite all over his little kitty paws.
I know it's wrong to play favorites with your pets, but I can't help it. Oscar is my favorite, not just of the three pets I have now, but of every animal I have ever owned in my life (and of many of the people I've known, too). I loved his sass and naughtiness from the beginning. In fact, my first contact with him was when I bent down to look at another cat and he reached through his cage door and grabbed my hair and meowed at me, like "you better get me out of this cage and take me home, because look at how adorable I am." And he was right. It was love at first sight and I have been borderline obsessed with him ever since.
Before he was taken to the Humane Society, Oscar was found eating out of a dumpster. This has made him an unconventional cat in two ways. First, he will eat literally anything. Tomatoes are his favorite food, but he's also been known to steal beans out of the strainer, eat the cheese off pizza, and drink pickle juice. Second, he loves being outside. He will sit by the back door and do everything he can to sneak out. It got so bad a couple of years ago that Ryan had to make a 2' x 6' kitty cage in the backyard, and Oscar loves to just sit out there and look around.
But it is this love of being outside that got Oscar into trouble this time around. When I first brought him inside, he seemed exhausted and a little shook up, but overall okay. He spent much of that day and night sleeping on the radiator to warm himself up.
But on Saturday,I noticed that Oscar was licking his paws a lot, and that he didn't seem to be moving very fast. I looked at his paws, consulted the google, and deduced that my poor Oscar had frostbite. It got progressively worse, and he's spent the past couple of days sleeping, occasionally trying to walk, but mostly just sitting around looking pathetic.
And although he seemed a tiny bit better this morning, I still feel so bad for him. It doesn't seem that there is much that can be done for him at this point, so now I'm just spoiling him with treats (I even picked tomatoes out of my soup and hand-fed them to him yesterday...), carrying him around the house, giving him lots of scratches and belly rubs, and hoping he gets better soon.
I love my orange Oscar.
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