The cat

About a week ago, the cat didn't come in in the morning.  This is unusual; he is a creature of habit.  Normally, he comes in, eats breakfast then sleeps in the warm bedroom until lunchtime, when he comes down for lunch.  He then sleeps the afternoon off in the conservatory, since that is now the warmest room in the house.  He goes out in the evening to prowl (and fight).

He didn't come in for lunch either, nor in the evening.  Most unusual.  Search parties were sent out.  Cats when they are injured will often hide themselves under a bush until they die or get better.  So another evening search was undertaken just before bedtime; and this time the calls to the cat were answered by a meow coming from under a hedge outside our bottom gate.  After a few exchanges of cat-calls, he presented himself, tail between his legs.

Injured tail.  He couldn't lift it up, it was clearly painful to move it.  He couldn't easily sit down because that lifted the tail, so he tended to flop down sideways and curl the tail around himself.   An x-ray at the vet's showed nothing broken, but over the next few days it became clear that he had no sensation in the tip of the tail, and the tail was becoming rigid as it died. 

A second trip to the vet resulted in a shaved tail revealing broken skin along its length.  It looks like he has pulled it and scraped it, and the nerve broke at some point.   He's having it snipped today.  Here is a photo of him with full-length tail.  I will spare him the indignity of publishing a picture of what he looks like at the moment.