We had a pretty good weekend of nesting activities that I'll get around to talking about this week, but on the actual 4th, my poor kitty, the feline love of my life, got herself into a fight with something. Originally we thought it was a rattlesnake, but a panicked rush to the coolest small town local vet EVER (who saw us despite it being her day off AND the fourth of July) allayed that particular fear. Sort of.
We still have no idea what happened, it could have been a good shaking in the jaws of some local mammal (which is even more horrifying), an unfortunate incident with a local car, or some sort of self induced injury due to her jumpiness in the enclosed space under the house. The outcome seems to be that she is not mortally injured, just deeply shaken, stiff, and bruised from her shoulders to her haunches. She's been hiding under the bed since we got back from the vet, except for about 5 hours when I prodded her into sleeping on the bed with me. She wouldn't eat or drink anything until 4:30 this morning when I hand fed her individual kibble nuggets while snuggling in bed. Yes, I love my kitty. I know the worst is over for now, but, well, I'm a worrier. So send out some good kitty vibes to her, and I'll pamper her as best I can.
Oh and Super Duper Big Thanks to the Hub for crawling under the house to the complete opposite corner where Molly had either been attacked or had hidden, and retrieving a rather reluctant injured kitty. You are a brave and noble soul. Thank heavens I married ya!