What does a gentle giant mean

We often run into cats, in all sizes and colors. But what turned up in the garden a good two weeks ago surpassed everything we had seen so far:

A giant cat! Gray, long-haired, long-legged and incredibly gentle, cuddly and trusting. And huge. HUGE! In contrast, our biggest and strongest tomcat looks like a kitten. I've never seen such a big cat.

He is neglected, a little daring and adventurous, but sweet. Good-naturedly, he lets me remove two ticks. Then he first eats something - skinny as he is. The kids (and I) hope he stays!

Of course, the story doesn't end there. The next day nothing more can be seen of said cat, and we are already sad about the all too short guest performance ...


... on the third day the best husband of all reports that there is a dying cat in our garden. I look - it's the gray one. The giant. He's lying limp on his side, all fours stretched out, but he's breathing. Has he been hit? Did he eat something wrong? What's wrong with him? Great mystery.

First of all, I put him in a cardboard box so that he is comfortable and undisturbed. Then I try to somehow keep it hydrated (it's still pretty hot here), so there is cat rearing food according to the recipe of our trusted vet, from the syringe, because the giant doesn't like to eat. He doesn't even lick himself, which is always a bad sign for cats. And: He doesn't get up. At least not voluntarily.

It goes on for two days. I feed, brush the matted fur until it is somewhat disentangled, stroke and talk to the animal well. I hope for the best and expect the worst - the first thing the kids ask about the cat every morning is. And of course they actively help to make it as comfortable as possible for the giant.

The best husband of all thinks the giant is probably old and full of life, and there is something to it: he is hardly interested in his surroundings and has mostly half-closed his yellow eyes. Did he come here to die?

Then the right hind paw swells. A lot. The gray giant has big paws anyway, but the right hind paw is four times as thick as the others. It must hurt a lot! Nevertheless, he lets the feeding and combing go through him without resistance and purrs loudly (which doesn't really mean a lot, because cats purr even under pain and stress).

In the evening the giant gets up and sways out of the garden. However, it does not get very far, because it is far too weak for long distances. We carry him back to his camp. The advantage of the short excursion: the abscess on the paw - it is undoubtedly one of these - breaks open, pus and tissue fluid leak out. This finally opens up real treatment options for me: First of all, I squeeze out as much secretion as possible, then rinse with sterile saline solution, fill the bag with antibiotic eye ointment and bandage my paw.

The giant endures everything stoically. He still does not eat himself, but does not defend himself against being force-fed. We drove like this for three more days: I rinse the deep pocket three times a day, apply an ointment and re-bandage. He now has a name: I call him "Tired Warrior". On the third day the patient begins to eat again - to the delight of all of us.

And then - the cat is gone. Together with the bandage, disappeared without a trace. We already fear the worst and are correspondingly sad. It's always hard when a cat's fate is unknown - much harder than dealing with the death of the animal.

But life is full of surprises, because one evening, almost a week later, a cat is sitting on the street and seems to be waiting for me when I get home. I take a closer look - it's Tired Warrior! He follows me home, eats, enjoys the pats and seems to want to stay. The joy is huge!


It's still there. He's not a cat, he's half a dog: he follows you wherever you go, wants to be petted and throws himself on his back so you can scratch his furry belly. To do this, he purrs with all his might. He has found his favorite spot in the garden and gets along well with the other cats - he is very distinguished and doesn't really care about the common people.

The children call him "wolf".


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