Chunk of Love

March 27, 2017 by curvylou 5 Comments

Chunk didn’t purr much before he came. Then, the first day we had him here, he developed a quiet, gentle, very sweet little purr. Which he used, basically, only when he was waking up, just prior to losing his furry little mind.

But. Now that he’s discovered petting and laps? I stood in a sunny window with him two days ago, held and petted him, his warm, sunshiny little body on my chest, his head on my shoulder, his little arms hugging me, his eyes closed—for half an hour. He was so relaxed, I ended up PETTING HIS LITTLE CHEST AND NECK WITH MY CHEEK AND LIPS WHILE I KISSED HIM AT THE SAME TIME.

This cat is ridiculous. He just keeps getting better and better, giving us more and more funny surprises, becoming more and more loving. And he’s SO beautiful. Sometimes Matt has to literally cut off my view of him before I can get out the door.

In the meantime, two weeks after we brought Chunk home, my beloved Devil picked a fight with a cat younger, larger, and stronger than him, and—surprise!—got his ass kicked. Biggest abscesses I’ve ever seen.

For ten days he convalesced in our studio, a place this nervous cat finds very calming. I spent the night with him every other night, and Matt took a turn too. We both spent lots of time with him during the day, treated his abscesses, gave him the hot water bottle that Chunk so clearly hates and that Devil so clearly loves, and played with him when he was able and willing.

Devil with hot water bottle and wet compress.

He wasn’t eating or drinking when he got here. Wendy came soon after, and gave him subcutaneous fluids; he started drinking and eating a tiny bit after that. We followed each dose of antibiotic with tuna water, which got more fluids into him. When we ran out of tuna water, we gave him a little spoonful of lips and eyebrows (you might call it wet food).

Days, he sat in the window with the hot water bottle, on a blanket Matt put out for him. Nights, he slept with me, or under a down comforter, again with the hot water bottle.

In eleven days he went from sick, depressed, and morose to playful, stir-crazy, relaxed, and glossy. We took him home a few days ago. The cat that injured him has been removed; Dev’s playing again with his pal Margot (Chunk’s mama!), snuggling again with his couch-potato pal Burley (Chunk’s grandpa!), and in an overall more jolly mood compared to before he was injured. Matt and I anthropomorphize he learned that a little vacation from the crazy is nice, but it gets lonesome and boring.

All this is to say I didn’t get row one of weaving done in the past month since Chunk came to live with us. I did knit three stitches. Literally three, while I was waiting in a line once.

I have done more weaving than I’ve blogged about, it’s just that it came to a standstill when Chunk moved in.

I hope it doesn’t take me much longer to get it off the loom.