We had weeks in Anglesea over the summer holidays once more, in Rhea’s own words from last year: ‘there were two dogs and two cats (Goose and Bear were the dogs and Duck and Lotus were the cats). We went to the beach a lot but the water was freezing, even with our wetsuits. We also went to a bridge we jump off of but the water was even colder than the ocean.’
This year, the water was warmer both at the beach and in the river. The days were long and we filled them with Nippers at the beach; the girls lazing in the swinging, mosquito-enclosed outdoor couch; and the usual pleasures of summer, including good food: dinners of BBQ meat, mussels, green salads, chicken casseroles, topped up with cherries, watermelon and summer pudding. Each of the girls cooked dinner once and Steve and I enjoyed a long lunch on the Mornington Peninsula while Penny kindly looked after the girls one day. The girls, my cousin Jessie and I also camped for a couple of nights in the Otways, meeting up with Jessie’s older daughter Zoe and her partner and friend. The stream we swam in there was cold, but after a hairy drive on steep dirt roads, we loved our time there, enjoying card games and our simple meals and improvised seats made from found carboard boxes.
Meanwhile, Lotus stayed in our room, with access to the balcony where she could enjoy the rosellas, magpies, kookaburras and gum leaves without risking being attacked by Bear (the Labrador) or any of the other free-ranging dogs. We didn’t bring her lead or cat carrier this year: Steve thought it would be unsafe, even on a lead, due to the dogs. I felt bad for Lotus and carried her to the lounge room, or she had excursions to the room where Steve was working. Once or twice I even let her outside our room: at the door at the top of the outdoor stairs or down on the ground when I was reasonably confident she wouldn’t run far away and would relish having a few minutes to search for skints or chase butterflies, as we had been increasingly letting her out to do at home without a lead. I had been feeling more and more that she needed the interaction with nature, as we all do, for her wellbeing.
One morning just a few days before we were due to return home, it was raining. I went downstairs and had breakfast in the dining room as usual. I was surprised on my return to find Lotus sitting at the top of the stairs outside our door. I hadn’t left the door open and Steve was still in bed, so I knew he hadn’t let her out. I pushed her inside with my foot but she didn’t rise. It dawned on me that the only explanation was that she couldn’t walk and had slipped off the balcony.
This isn’t the first balcony Lotus has fallen off: last year she fell from an internal balcony in the holiday house we were staying at (we just returned from there yesterday), necessitating a quick trip to the nearest vet, and a bill of around $1,000, prompting our decision to invest in cat insurance. This time my first thought was the expense for treatment, despite the said cat insurance. On the upside, it separated Lara from a bit of bickering with her sister and cousin to go to the vet with Steve. However the prognosis was bad: likely an operation would be needed, but an X-ray and specialist examination would confirm. Steve and Lara had a return trip to transport Lotus from the vet to the vet hospital, and I thought of the dollars accumulating.
Poor Lotus: she was diagnosed with a fractured pelvis. The choice in treatment was rest in a dog crate for 6-8 weeks for it to heal, or an operation to insert a plate, followed by 6-8 weeks in a dog crate, both options aiming to minimize the progression of arthritis which is now inevitable.
After further discussion with the specialist veterinary orthopaedic surgeon, we decided to take the option of rest in the dog crate without operation. It was a medical decision: the $7,000 cost (excess around $1,800) didn’t factor in to our decision, I promise.
Throughout her injury, she was subdued and didn’t yowl. Her good friend Goose visited and sniffed the outside of her cat carrier where she was imprisoned, and we let her out to limp around our room under supervision. The home-made barricade wasn’t very effective anyway, and we couldn’t leave her in a cat carrier for three days.
I stroked her soft white head, looked in to her blue eyes, and realized that cleaning out her kitty litter and feeding her every morning, looking after her during illnesses and injuries, having her sit on me, her relentless purring, trust in me and sweet nature – somewhere along the road, I had fallen for her after all.
