Friday: Poor Little Mite

This little fella gave us quite the fright today. Bad parents that we are, we suddenly noticed at bedtime last night that we hadn't seen Max for ages. After a thorough search, it turned out that he wasn't in the house, nor did he come back during the night. He never strays that far or that long. By the time I left for work he still hadn't turned up.

K. went out searching for him and, while out, saw a young man with a large husky. She asked him if he had seen a grey cat and in an amazing turn that we can't quite believe he took out his phone, showed her a photo of Max and said: 'This one?'. We still can't believe the coincidence of her meeting him on the street at just the right time - he was pretty dumbfounded too.

Anyway, long story short Max and the dog had been in a terrible fight (and Max is not actually a fighter). He had been in this guy's garden all night just curled up. When K. went to get him he was in a terrible state. She took him to the vet where he has been all day. He was dehydrated, very cold, had quite severe bruising and a split gum which should have stitches but they didn't want to traumatise him with the anaesthetic.

He is home now as the vet thought he would be happier here but he is very shaken. The vet said he had been incredibly lucky and must have put up an amazing fight.