I was in a house with a few other people during a night time thunderstorm. I saw a cat out on the deck and was worried for a moment that mine had gotten outside. I stared through the rain spattered window. The cat jumped up on the sill and looked at me. I realized it was cross-eyed, long-haired and not my cat. I said so and walked to the kitchen. My cat jumped on the counter, something he doesn’t do in real life.
Someone opened the window and let the stray cat in from the rain. He scrabbled around as they tried to catch him. He had an old collar around his neck and was dragging a leash. His neck was missing a lot of hair and was worn raw in patches. He scratched his neck with his back foot and I realized he also had fleas. I didn’t want that cat anywhere near mine. I told them to catch the damn thing and put it outside or in a room. I picked up my cat and held onto it as they chased this sickly looking cat around. Then someone yelled as they tripped over it and the cat started limping. The back leg had gotten broken.
The stray cat limped into the kitchen and laid down. This was my opportunity to get it and keep it from further injuring itself. I set Bukowski on the counter and quickly pinned the cat by the shoulders on the ground. I called to one of the guys that supposedly had some medical or veterinarian training. When I look back at the cat he is missing not just his fur, but his skin below the neck. It wasn’t gory either. There was no blood. It was sinewy muscles and dried out bones. We examined him and his foreleg bone had been wired together for an old injury. There were also black cords that strung though his legs as if he was a marionette.
None of it makes sense, but I held the cat while the man tried to reset the bone of the back leg. That’s all I remember before I woke up.