Poor Little Kitty...

I have been a Kitty Mommy longer than I have been Robby's Mom. Sophie, my persnickety little cat, is almost 13 years old. She was a mature cat when Robby was born and her little life has been in an upheaval ever since he began to walk.

Robby loves Sophie. I love Sophie. Sophie tolerates Robby. She is still mad at me for bringing this little boy into her life. She used to sleep on me at night. She now sleeps on Scott. This is partly because she is annoyed with me, and partially because of my "cricket leg."

Several times a week, my leg will kick rapidly at night. I cannot control the movement. It is also uncomfortable because it feels like my stump is being stung. Sometimes I am able to sleep through the movement but, unfortunately, my husband and the cat rarely do.

I feel bad for Sophie. All of a sudden she is woken because my leg is kicking her. She is chased all day by Robby, and he thinks her toys are better than his! And, on more occasions then I would prefer to admit to, her paws and tail have been stepped on by my prosthetic.

Scrambling around, trying to clean up or chase after Robby, I am stopped dead in my tracks by the horrible high pitched squeal of my kitty in pain. It takes me a split second to process that the noise is the cat and that I am stepping on her. Because of the prosthetic, I am missing the normal kinesthetic feedback through my foot to let me know that I am stepping on her. I am forced to rely on her scream.

I feel horrible after I step on her because I am sure it is quite painful. She often runs away and starts licking whatever appendage I happened to step on. After an hour or two Sophie will reemerge to her normal stalking grounds.

Not that my amputation hasn't benefited Sophie, because it has. She spent an entire summer in bed, lying next to me and on my lap while I recovered. I am pretty sure that she is the only family member that enjoys my revision surgeries (more lap time).

I knew that the amputation would have an impact my life and the lives of people close to me. I never realized how it would affect a pet. Between my "cricket leg" and being stomped by my prosthetic, Sophie's life has been impacted greatly by my amputation. A pet's love must be the definition of "unconditional" because she doesn't complain. Like everybody in the family, Sophie has learned to adjust to life with an amputee.