Raleigh does have his troubles. This morning, I could tell he wasn’t feeling good again. He didn’t want any breakfast, which, while in keeping with some days over the past couple of weeks, has not been the case the last few days. But I also noticed that he visited the litter-boxes five times while I was feeding the others. I looked in the boxes, and there were two tiny poops. Raleigh was constipated.
No wonder he hadn’t felt like eating. I had visions of, first, forcing his Prednisolone into him, then forcing hair-ball remedy into him, as a lubricant, until I could buy something more fitting. Then, about half an hour later, I noticed him cleaning himself. I thought he was feeling a bit sore back there and was trying to ease the discomfort. But as I approached, I smelled something. Sure enough, Raleigh had deposited the biggest crap I’d ever seen him deposit, right in a cosy corner of my sitting room.
Normally, this would, of course, be a problem. But I couldn’t be angry at him. If he went, he went; that was the important thing. Where it came out was unimportant, really. Secondly, he probably felt the urge and wasn’t about to deny it, after not being able to do anything about for who knows how long. So I cleaned it up, washed the carpet and fed Raleigh. He ate; not a big amount, but enough to stop his tummy from growling, and enough to consume his medicine, too. I was greatly relieved. I imagine he was, too.
I’m sure that wasn’t what has been troubling Peachy lately, as he has pooped more or less regularly over the last week. Nonetheless, I am pleased that he didn’t have this adding to his troubles for long. While I would have preferred him to have made it back to the litter-boxes in time and not do what needed doing on my sitting room carpet, in this case, the problem was a solution.