PROFILES IN CAT COURAGE:
TRIXIE’S ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY (AN UPDATE)
One year ago tonight, Trixie lost her leg. As in *amputated.*
Here’s the story.
Just days after Christmas, at this time last year, Trixie was our new addition to the family. She was the size of a playtoy but she behaved like a lion. Trixie had no fear, which made her both a bundle of joy and a terror on four paws. Well, soon to be three paws.
First, let me tell you more about how we adopted Trixie and why she’s so special to us. Yeah, everyone thinks their pet is “special,” but wait until you read Trixie’s story. She really is especially special.
I’d started doing some volunteer work at the Animal Foundation. One agreement we made beforehand was we wouldn’t allow ourselves to adopt any of the animals ourselves. The reason for this is/was simple and obvious. We’d want to adopt EVERY cat and dog. So, one of the practical boundaries of being in contact with so many needy animals was (for me, a need) to create some space between the cats and dogs and our human emotions. It’s difficult to describe this, and even more difficult to adhere to the regiment. But trust me, it’s the only way to do this sort of work, especially if you’re a hopeless and helpless mush of an animal lover. Guilty, your honor.
There’s an old saying that goes like this: we don’t adopt our pets. They find us. They adopt us. They latch onto us once we earn their trust. Anyway, Marieta was browsing on a local app with local news and neighborhood stuff. She scrolled to an ad with a pict of a stray kitten that had been found as part of a litter at a rundown apartment complex. Long story short, for some reason this tricolor kitten caught Marieta’s attention. We decided that okay, we’d go and perhaps take it. If nothing else, we’d pass it along to the Animal Foundation. Far better than to be abandoned or dumped, a huge problem here in Las Vegas.
I told Marieta, let’s get this straight upfront — “we’re not taking this cat.” Then, we got to the apartments and walked up the stairs.
An older Black woman answered the door. She explained that she had two cats already and was working a couple of jobs. She didn’t have time or money for the other two cats and certainly couldn’t take in a third stray. But leaving the cat out on the street in the cold was not an option. We understand that, don’t we? If you’ve read this far, you understand.
So, the tricolor cat comes running to the door. Almost like she knew us already. She rubbed against my leg and gave me a “meow.” Then, she began to purr.
“Marieta, we’re taking this cat.”
I melted like warm butter.
Well, this little cat absolutely charmed my socks off. From the moment she was inside the car until she got home until she met mischievous “Cosmo” our Tuxedo cat she became an INSTANT member of the family. She never had to be trained for anything. Litterbox, not a problem. Because of her 3-colors, we called her “Trixie.” She answered to her name immediately and came running anytime we called her.
Three days after Christmas, Trixie ran outside into the backyard. This wasn’t any cause for concern. We have high walls and it’s difficult to scale the bricks. But within a few minutes, it was obvious that Trixie had somehow escaped. We began searching, but there was no sign of her.
A few hours passed. By 9 pm we were really getting worried. “Trixie….Trixie….Trixie!”
Then, I heard something. It was a faint cry in the distance. A meow. It was Trixie.
I kept calling and the cries grew louder. I climbed up on a ladder and then I saw her across the wall. She was laying on her side, crying, apparently unable to walk. She struggled, and then fell over, collapsing. Something was very wrong.
I went into the neighbor’s yard and picked her up. It appeared she’d try to jump on the roof, slipped, and fallen onto a concrete sidewalk. She seemed comforted by a human touch but was also in terrible pain. In light of the living room, we noticed the back hind leg seemed floppy. She had no control of it. The leg was just — hanging there.
Trixie was braver than any human person ever would have been in such pain. We rushed her to a 24-hour emergency vet and they called in a specialist. It was 10:30 at night and Trixie needed an operation.
We hoped the leg was simply dislocated. As in–out of the socket. Maybe they could pop it back in. Or place some pins in it. Something. She wasn’t even a year old. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen to a kitten.
The vet tried to save the leg. But X-rays showed the leg was shattered in three places. The doctor said it was the worst break he’d ever seen for an animal that somehow wasn’t resisting. She didn’t even cry.
They said the leg would have to be removed. As in the ENTIRE leg from the body. Marieta and I were speechless.
The next day, the surgery was completed and she was sewn back up. Her body had been shaven. The six-inch scar with stitches down the lower third of her torso looked like something out of a Frankenstein movie. Her leg was cut off. She looked helpless.
Hours later, we brought Trixie home in a pet carrier. Within seconds, we opened the cage door and with no prompting at all, she hopped out onto the carpet. Yeah, HOPPED.
Minutes later, she was hopping towards her food bowl. She received a real feast that night. Then, once dinner was done, she hopped on three legs like she’d been born that way. Incredibly, by the next day, she was climbing up and down the stairs, and two days later, she was wrestling (wrestling!) with the male cat. Oh, and she lost the head funnel within’ seconds of arrival back home. Trixie wasn’t having any of that “funnel” thing. Besides, it hid her pretty face.
We tried to give Trixie the painkillers. But she refused those, as well. We tried to trick her and put the pills in the food, and she wouldn’t eat it. So, we just tossed the pills away. Trixie didn’t need no stickin’ pain pills.
So, now it’s been a year to the day. Her anniversary. Trixie the tripod.
Animals are amazing, aren’t they? What an inspiration.