Picking up the pieces

As often (thankfully) happens, things seem a lot less dire a day later. Armed with comforting words from my internet friends and some ideas on what is wrong with Kitters (why hello, redirected aggression) as well as a list of anti-anxiety medications commonly tried for cats, I feel like I'm properly prepared to approach the vet's office in a "what's the next step?" fashion rather than a doom-and-gloom fashion.

Kitters's behavior has been exemplary since the bite / confinement, and right now he's comfortably (though probably confusedly) ensconced in the second bedroom with his litter box, food, water, and some toys so that there's no chance at all of a repeat performance while my sister is visiting.

Some lucky things:  I have some comp time available at work, so I'm going to take off at 3:00 on Tuesday so that both MB and I can accompany Kitters to the vet. The trip we were supposed to take on Tuesday to a local amusement park with my dad was already postponed until August, so I don't have to sit out of the water park with a gory leg, feeling sorry for myself. Though it does still sting a little, I was able to wander around pretty freely at work without overtly limping, so I won't have to offer any awkward explanations to coworkers. I haven't cried all day over Kitters's unsure fate. So, tentatively, things are looking up. And sometimes, just the hope that things will be better is enough, I think.


Edited to add:  We have an appointment for 4:00 on Wednesday, since Kitters's vet is not in on Tuesdays. Cross your fingers / send good thoughts! I have decided to remain stubbornly optimistic.