Part 6 (2/2)
With the greatest effort I raised myself up, and it was nearly an hour before I reached the tree, the scene of yesterday's disaster. Inch by inch I crawled along, with all the courage I could command. If cats have nine lives, I lost eight of mine on that journey. I could not see; my eyes were closed up by cobwebs, from the bushes I had crawled under when I hid myself. I felt my way along, and when the tree was reached fell down exhausted.
Soon I heard a soft step, and Miss Eleanor gathered me up in her arms, trembling with fear that she should hurt me. She cried out with pain when she saw my b.l.o.o.d.y side, with the skin and fur hanging down nearly a quarter of a yard. She folded her ap.r.o.n, and held me in that, as I could be moved easily in that way; and I never winced, though the least jar hurt me, closing my eyes, and feeling I could die in peace. She carried me upstairs to Miss Milly's bedside.
Poor Miss Milly! She had not closed her eyes till toward morning, when she fell into a doze. She opened her eyes when Miss Eleanor spoke, and screamed with pleasure when she caught sight of me. She held out her arms; but Miss Eleanor said, ”Do not move him.” Then, when she opened her ap.r.o.n, and Miss Milly saw my torn and b.l.o.o.d.y side, she cried as if her heart would break, saying, ”He will die! What shall we do?”
”Dress yourself quickly, and we will see what can be done. One comfort: he will be with us, and will have our care, even if we must lose him.”
They folded a blanket, laid it on a wide lounge, then covered it with a clean sheet folded thick, and laid me on it. Then Miss Milly soaked off the cobwebs from my eyes with warm water and a soft cloth, and I could just see a little; but it was like a view of heaven to see their dear faces once more.
I tried to lap some warm milk, for the fever had made me thirsty. The effort was too much, and I fell back, faint and dizzy. When this attack pa.s.sed off, I took a few drops of water from a spoon, and Miss Milly sat for an hour patiently, giving me drop by drop, till my parched tongue and throat were relieved.
She sponged around the wound, soaking the clotted blood from my fur so tenderly that I suffered very little.
My heart was so full of thankfulness that I would not murmur at my pains. And I do not think it was such a great virtue, though the suffering was fearful, for I think animals bear pain always with more fort.i.tude than human beings.
Miss Eleanor went into Boston as soon as possible. Mrs. Knight was very much distressed, and at once went with her to see the great doctor for animals, Dr. Watts. He said he could not leave his office the Fourth of July. He said he thought my shoulder bone was bent, and as I was so old, he should advise bathing, without trying to have it operated upon. He gave them a liniment, saying he did not think I would ever get over it.
Miss Milly said he evidently thought me an old cat, and that I had better die than live and suffer. ”He shall not die,” she added, ”if we can save him.”
The liniment was just fearful, Miss Milly held my head in her arms, covering my eyes and nose; for it was very strong, and drew tears from their eyes. Miss Eleanor applied it slowly. I winced and moaned, but tried hard to restrain myself, for I knew they were suffering with me.
And I was anxious to bear it; for somehow I had faith in Dr. Watts, and I believed it would help me.
Never had a patient better care. They made me catmint tea, and rubbed it on their hands so I could smell of it, and never left me alone. They kept the sheet smooth under me, for I could not turn over. It was like heaven to me, and after I had slept a little while, I opened my eyes, and seeing Miss Milly bending over me, I purred and put out my tongue to lick her hand. She kissed me with delight, and both of them caressed me, saying, ”He will live, and no matter how much trouble he is, we will be only too glad to do for him.”
It was very true. From that day I got better slowly. I could turn over, and the hanging skin and fur fell off; and they kept soft greasy handkerchiefs on the wound till it closed over and healed. In two weeks the fur began to grow, and soon I had as lovely a coat as before my accident.
Just one week did I keep good, because I could not help myself. Then, one day, they went down to dinner, leaving me asleep on the lounge.
I said to myself when I awoke, ”This has lasted long enough; I will not be an invalid longer.” I crawled down and surprised them. They gathered me up, and carried me back, saying: ”You will not get well so soon if you behave like this. We will close the door when we leave the room after this, for we see that you are not to be trusted.”
It did put me back, but my one desire was to get about, and I was soon able to. My shoulder was stiff, and it was a good six weeks before I could walk about with comfort. I limped a little, but my mistress laughed over it, saying it was an aristocratic limp--like some old gentleman leaning on his gold-headed cane.
It was due to the love and care of these dear friends that my life was saved--another debt added to the long list of favors I received from them. I hope my little book will be successful and prove how much I loved and appreciated them.
I have never been strong since my accident. There were internal injuries, and I often have an inward fever and great pain. I keep it to myself when I can, for if they find my breath feverish and my paws hot, they are very anxious and dose me with aconite and sometimes oil.
Aconite I can take, but I do just hate oil. I act like a bad boy when it is given to me.
My misfortune had one bright side; it gave us nice neighbors. Very congenial ones they were.
When my mistress left me, to go in to tea that afternoon, they thought I had followed them, and had not missed me. Two tramp children shouted at the window, ”Missus, your cat's killed! We seed a dog kill him.”
They ran out to question the children, but could get no satisfaction.
Then they called, ”Daisy, Daisy!” all around the house and grounds; for they could not believe I was lost. The children must be mistaken.
<script>