Between worlds: observations of a semi-feral boy

I'm in the hospital tonight, and it's scary here.

It's dark and weird here. I'm in a cage, and there are other cats in other cages, and there are dogs in another room - I hear 'em and smell 'em - and that's no fun.

The reason I'm here is, I can't pee. Daddy noticed I was acting funny this morning when he was outside with me, and he asked Mama to keep an eye on me. Mama figured it out after I scratched at the dirt and squatted a few times, but nothing came out. I looked at her while I was doing it, too, to be sure she'd catch on. She's not too dumb, that Mama. So she squooshed me into a carrier and brought me here. I wasn't happy about being pushed into the carrier and scruffed while she zipped it shut - but I didn't fight too hard. I asked for her help, after all, and I got it.

She told me I'd be okay and would feel better soon, before she left me here. And the vet people say I'm behaving myself well.

But I don't have any food. Tomorrow morning they're going to sedate me, and then take out some of my urine and figure out what's going on. They're going to give me the rest of my shots too, while I'm out.

I'm scared, but I'm glad I have a Mama and a Daddy who notice when I'm sick. I wonder how other feral kitties - the ones who haven't been socialized at all - cope when they get sick.

Mama says (with a sigh) that yes, she guesses this really does make her my Mama. It's beyond TNR, it's beyond shots and feeding and shelter and snuggling ... it's major medical care.

I like having a Mama and a Daddy, but I don't like needing major medical care! I want to be back on my porch, and playing in my yard - not just squatting in it, trying to pee.