Still Thinking…

Oh my…where do I start?

Cookie, the Ragdoll has not been taking our move to the city very well. For the past 3 weeks, he has been hiding under our bed, will only come out for food, loo and to sleep with us (sometimes) and then he runs all too quickly into his little dark hole under our bed.

His nervousness is understandable. The little kitty (well, he is 5 – I wont say little too many times !) has NEVER lived in the city before and is so used to the old house’s huge lawn and backyard. Back in Ruskin, he has the creek to explore, a few neighbourhood cat-friends to play with, and also Smoky (another family cat) to terrorise. Summer days like now are his favourite – he would disappear for long hours outside and then sometimes return home with a ‘gift- – be it an unfortunate bird or a mole. Yes, we do have a little animal cemetery in the Ruskin garden to bury all of Cookie’s victims. DH and I usually have a little ceremony to bury those little creatures. Poor them.

So when he refused to spent time out of the house, stay under the bed and get extremely nervous with the sounds of passing cars (our new place is on a street and not by a river!), we thought he is thought he is acclimatising.Cookie is a country cat after all, so we let him run for cover under the bed anytime he wants. It is his ‘safe house’.

Little did I know that cats can get depressed. You know the same way how humans need serotonin from the sunshine to feel happy (which explains why there are so many suicide cases in the West in winter due to lack of sunlight), cats apparently suffer from it too. Cookie has been depressed and what’s worst – it took a toll on his animal brain.

It started on Wednesday. We can hear him growl and seemed annoyed with his tail. We thought he was just chasing after an insect, but he wasn’t. His growls became a full-blown psychosis, and the once cheerful and jolly and very playful Cookie literally became a monster. Think the horror movie Child’s Play and that little doll Chucky.

His episodes became more common, and he was so scary it freaked me out. He behaved like a cat possessed, growling, hissing, and biting his own tail!. The last straw was when he jumped in bed with us to sleep, and the he suddenly got an episode and started biting his tail so hard it bled. Of course our very virginal white comforter did not look so white any more.

We took him to the vet on Saturday. She found a deep wound on his tail due to his actions and the whole thing reminds me of Edward Norton in Fight Club. The doctor treated the wound, and he now has a bandage around the tail and he has to wear an Elizabethan collar cone to prevent further licking or biting. We read about all his symptoms and knew he was depressed. Some vets would recommned Prozac – but we both were adamant against that. Drugs for animals? Are you kidding!

When he returned from the vet yesterday, he looked funny with his Elizabethan collar cone and a bandaged tail. But I still speak to him, and he seems tired and was meowing for attention. We both spent time playing with him quite a bit yesterday, and we bought him new toys, catnip sprays and special food treats to keep him happy. We both also know that animals are intuitive, and a lot of their intuition comes from the will of God. So we prayed a lot for God to heal the little Cookie, so we don’t have to end up having to give him Prozac.

Cookie is now out in the garden, all on his own. This is is his 1st day being outside alone after 3 weeks, and it has been 2 hours and counting ! I guess his Creator answered our call.

Never underestimate the power of du’a. Even with animals.