It was a short phone call. It was one of those life altering sorts of phone call. 'Hi honey, could you please call Sheila and ask her to call the ambulance, I broke my $^%^#%!! leg'." He followed that up with 'don't worry' (and refrained from adding 'be happy'). Like that was gonna happen! Worry is my hobby, and I'm good at it. VERY good at it.
Two days later, after an overnight stay at the hospital and surgery, this was the end result. More hardware. So far, not a single doctor has offered him one of those neat little cards to hand out to people who man the metal detectors. But, this is just the leg. You should see the spine.
Neither of us thought to take a pic of the initial monstrosity they sent him home in. Picture gobs of cotton wool wrapped around and around, held together with several ace bandages. This cast was much neater, but he hated it more.
While P was getting reacquainted with his walker, Nicole brought this over one day. She was little and loud. She isn't as little now (in fact she's growing faster than most weeds), but she's still loud. I've never met such a 'talky' cat. She talks about everything. All the time. If you look at her she talks to you. If you talk to her she talks to you. If you pet her she talks to you. If you wander past her with food ~ she YELLS at you. She has definite 'wants' when it comes to food (maybe it has something to do with how fast she's growing). Meet Abby Nermal (pronounced with a southern drawl and sounding like Ah be Nermal lol). We call her Abby, but really, she's Nermal. If you are a Garfield fan, you understand.
She makes the dogs roll their eyes and look worried (that's one of the wuss dogs there with her). She drives the older cats stark, raving mad. Literally. She leaps three feet in the air and pounces on their heads. She steals their food. She follows them and expects them to let her snuggle up with them. She did give us something to think about other than that cast ....