Excellent news

Pooka and I went to the vet after work tonight, fearing the worst. Dr. M had used the dreaded a-word to describe what could happen if Pook's little toe didn't heal over, and to my unpracticed eye, not all that much had changed since we took the bandage off almost two weeks ago.

In the waiting room, P. got all riled up by a mewling kitty, but she settled down as we waited for our appointment with Dr. R. On the one hand, I worried he wouldn't have reviewed Pooka's information; on the other, perhaps he wasn't quite so scalpel-happy as Dr. M.

His examination of the Pook's toe was quick and positive: it's healing fine, and he expects a full new toenail to regenerate. Really? Completely the opposite of Dr. M's pessimistic outlook, but we'll take it. He even said it was OK for her to start licking it a little (less than 5 minutes), and for her to get out and play again (though not on gravel or crushed seashells -- dry humor, perhaps).

"You're responsible for this foot again," he told her very seriously. "No one else is going to take care of this for you now."

She listened intently.