Bear had to go back to the V E T tonight for a check up to see how things are progressing. The poor lad shook like a leaf the whole time we were there and refused to go through doorways unless yours truly went first.
So we sat and waited a while reading about flea treatment and lagomorphic dental hygiene
and we waited some more and filled our time watching the cat people carrying baskets of irate moggies to see the veterinary. Finally we were summonsed and based on the 9 steps he took to get to the consulting room vet was concerned that Bear wasn't putting enough weight on rear drivers side paw. As she had not seen him trying to get on the waiting room chairs, climb baby gates in Rock HQ and be evicted from sofas that he favours instead of his bed I was able to reassure her that he does indeed put a lot of his fat backside onto the newly reconstructed joint. Thanks to his must get sympathy limping action he is going back to the V E T on Friday for another check.