Cleo, the rescue kitten that we recently acquired, has turned into a real charmer with enough personality for five cats. She gives us kisses, she tries to steal the food off our plates, she attacks our toes underneath the duvet at night and then curls up close to sleep – I’m terrified of rolling over on her. She rules the big cats with a velvet fist in a spiked iron glove.
On her own she’s figured out the game of fetch. She’ll chase balled-up napkins or sweet wrappers for ages, bringing it back to either drop right in front of you, or actually in your hand. She’s smart, so bright for a cat.
A few days after we got her, we noticed how reflective her eyes were, much more so than the other cats. One eye especially reflected any light back in a flat green sheet. So we took her to the vets…and she has a cataract. Just in one eye, the vet thinks, but the fact that both of her eyes have this odd reflectiveness makes me nervous.
So we will watch it, and try to judge how much it is affecting her vision. If it gets bad (and it may not), we will have it operated on. Evidently they can just remove the lens from the eye, which will still leave her with long-range vision in that eye. People are farsighted, they get along, and she will as well.
But poor Cleo. It’s always the ones that you really fall in love with.