Cloud. Watching me knit and plotting ways to steal the yarn from between my fingers.

I’ve owned cats for most of my life. I’ve had various feline personalities bless my life, so I believe I’m a pretty decent judge of cat character. At least with my own cats.

Cloud is a very smart cat. He’s also a cautious cat and he remembers anything that’s bothered him. Ever since they were young, Aang was always the one who would explore a new situation first. He’s also the worst in the car and is afraid of thunderstorms, but he will happily spend hours outside on his leash while cars zoom by on the roads bordering our yard. Cloud was scared once by a loud engine revving—the cat vaulted five feet straight up in the air, squirmed out of his leash, and hid under the shed—and he is no longer willing to spend any time outside. He doesn’t like when we go out there without him, but as soon as he hears a car engine, he’s scratching at the door to go inside.

When I got home from San Diego in August, I noticed a bald patch on Cloud’s inner rear thigh. We didn’t know what it was and it was difficult to look at and photograph because we have to flip him belly-up and straighten his back leg. I did the free online vet with Chewy and they said to keep an eye on it, but it didn’t look like it was getting better, so we took him in. He was tested for ringworm (negative) and we were given some cream to put on it and a cone of shame.

Cloud did not like the cone of shame.

At first, he went nuts and continued to back up and back up until he was running into things. He would try to run and get the edge caught on furniture. He was so distressed I actually went outside for a while and let Dean watch him. We kept it on until we thought the medicine had soaked in and then took it off.

The next time we put it on him, he wedged it under furniture until he was able to pry it off his head.

We next went the distraction method. We’d put the medicine on his leg and immediately give him (and Aang, because you have to) treats. This seemed to be working. We were relieved not to have to use the cone anymore.

Fast forward and after a little time of the sore getting better, I feel that it is stagnating. I mention this to Dean and we try to send another picture to the vet, who has stopped responding. I start watching Cloud more and Dean and I noticed that he is still licking his sore spot and often aggressively licking.

Cloud is one of those cats that has to be destroying something to relax. We keep a rotating herd of boxes on the floor of the living room so that he can sit inside of them and then rip them apart with his teeth while he chills. Little fragments of cardboard end up scattered all over the carpet ringing the box of the hour. He used to get on top of our kitchen cabinets and chew the corners—that was an ordeal—and we eventually had to scrape Irish Spring on the corners until he stopped before we could sand them down, refinish and repaint them.

I’ve been getting increasingly more desperate to keep Cloud from licking. I even tried to have a heart-to-heart with him. “It’s not going to heal. You need to leave it alone. If you don’t leave it alone, I’m going to have to put the cone on you.”

I even tried spraying Bitter Yuck on the spot after medication. Instead of deterring him, I think it made him even more determined to get the area clean. And it made him angry with me.

Today, in desperation, I put the cone back on him again.

Aang giving Cloud a few comforting shoulder licks.

He was depressed, acted weird, and basically laid on my bed all day. (Once he figured out that he was still able to jump up there with the cone on.) As of this writing, he has managed to get free of it, but that was a good several hours. Dean and I are now considering doing the medication and cone in the morning.

I am just beyond frustrated and sad that I can’t communicate to him why we’re doing this and get him to just leave it alone. He’s smart enough so that he knows I don’t want him licking that spot, so now he avoids me if he’s going to go after that area.

I hate that we were just getting to be good buddies and finding our nighttime/weekend morning cuddle routine and I have to make him angry at me. I’m even more pissed that it doesn’t appear to be doing any good. The only nice thing is that Aang seems to babysit Cloud a bit when he’s coned up.

As of this morning, he has learned how to lick his wound around the cone. I want to collapse in despair. Instead I got online and ordered a long-sleeved jumpsuit for cats that should cover the wound. At least this won’t impede eating and drinking (and litter boxing) and fingers crossed he won’t be able to get out of it.

Since I still needed ten dollars for free shipping, I bought both the boys some toys to share also. Keep your fingers crossed for us. And I’ll include Cloud-in-jumpsuit photos in next week’s email announcement.

I wish I spoke “cat.”