The night before last, we noticed that Cat was limping (click his name to see what he says about the experience). He wasn't limping a lot, but I'm pretty observant when it comes to animal behaviour. One time, we had been at Red's mum's house about two minutes, straight off the plane, and I saw the cat and said, "She's got something wrong with her paw, I think her claws are too long," and sure enough one had grown so long that it had punctured her pad. Straight to the vet.
Anyways, back to our very own Cat. We took hold of him and tried gently squeezing his foot to see if it elicited any kind of reaction. Nothing, just an overbearing sense of "Fucking humans" on his part.
So we left it overnight, but there was no obvious improvement. Yesterday morning we ummed and aahed about whether or not to go to the vet, just to be on the safe side, eventually deciding to go.
The vet had a good look around and manipulated the leg in all possible ways, getting hissed at in the process. (Not by me.) And -- voilà! -- there he found a small cat bite resulting from one of the many fights Cat seems to get himself into. So now we're into antibiotics-land. Oh, the joy...