I call him Boo Boo now and he responds to it well. Perhaps that is because Donald is the name that the SPCA gave him and he never cared for it. Boo Boo isn't meant to elicit sympathy or pity, it's simply a statement of fact. It's what you tell your children when they hurt themselves. They have a boo boo.
The main change that has occurred over the last few months is the complete change in his disposition. He's like a different cat which may have something to do with the reason I changed his name. He is much more vocal. He jabbers, and meows, and purrs incessantly. Before he was very quiet. He tells me when he wants a treat, or a 'nip. He wakes me up in the morning for breakfast. He's now a "phone cat", and doesn't like it when I talk on the phone to someone else. When I check my e-mail he demands equal time with a scratch behind the ears. He is constantly under foot now, which is ironic because he has one less foot.
Probably the biggest change I've seen is that he stands his ground longer. The fight-or-flight reflex has been alleviated since the cancer has been removed. I adopted Donald from the SPCA and we spent about a year together before he was diagnosed with osteosarcoma. During that time he spent a lot of time hiding under the bed. The sound of a truck rolling by, or a car door slamming would send him skittering under the bed. I chalked this up to the trauma of his being abandoned on a nearby military base. Yet I could never understand why he was so afraid of me. It wasn't until I did some research on the web and found that one of the number one symptoms of cancer in animals is hiding. Donald was trying to hide his weakness from me. The vet explained to me that the pain from the cancer was probably the equivalent of a chronic tooth ache. Imagine trying to hide the pain of a tooth ache for a year.He was probably afraid I would shoo him him out the door when I found out he had cancer like his last owner did. (As an aside, Boo Boo now waits for me at the front door until I get home from work, before he shunned the front door).
Boo Boo reminds me of an athlete, or a veteran, who has lost a limb. He is all muscle, sinew, and can do attitude. I don't worry about him too much. He can take care of himself. But I'm there if he needs me. He hasn't gained an ounce of body fat lying around crying 'woe is me'. I try to feed him the protein I know his body craves. He prefers stinky tune and salmon. He doesn't care for rubbery processed chicken and I can't say as I blame him.
Donald/Boo Boo continues to inspire me on a daily basis.
