Little Mr. Ironsides

Our cat Sam lying in the grass in our backyard on August 4, 2008. Original: _MG_7035.CR2

This morning didn’t get started off on the right foot. I didn’t see Sam underfoot and accidentally kicked him as I was getting ready for work. I felt a sharp pain in my left foot and dropped to the floor, then hobbled up to find him to check him for injuries. He seemed fine but I pulled him close and gave him a thorough exam, he wasn’t too keen on being poked and prodded so I petted him enough to keep him happy. He didn’t show any signs of tenderness and seemed none the worse for wear, making one mad dash up the Christmas tree and then curling up with Scout on the window seat to watch the comings and goings on the street.

I decided to stay at home an extra hour just to make sure he didn’t have any unusual behavior due to an internal injury, with the final test being the filling of his food bowl. He came ripping down the stairs and began eating before I had even finished filling the bowls, leaving no doubts as to his mobility or his appetite. I didn’t fare quite so well, after my foot continued to hurt into the afternoon I took off my shoes for a closer look. One toe was blackened on the top although by the end of the day it has lightened a bit to a deep purple. I still don’t know exactly what happened, either my toe got bent back at just the right (and wrong) angle or my little cat has ironsides.

Or a mithril coat hidden under his fur. Perhaps we named him after the wrong hobbit.

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