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When Your Cat Needs “Crate Rest” and You Need…a Nap

  • Lucy
  • 1 day ago
  • 4 min read

Here’s the Scoop

  • Butabi's unexpected and mysterious foot injury

  • What a “chip fracture” is (and why it sounds way more casual than it feels)

  • My failed attempt at traditional crate rest

  • The creative setup we landed on instead

Because of Course This Happened Now

You know how life has seasons where you think, Okay, surely we’ve hit our quota for stressful events? Yeah. That was me.


Ziggy’s IBD is still a roller coaster. Lars and Zigrit have dental cleanings coming up, which already had my stress levels hovering somewhere near “internally screaming.” And then, just to round things out, Butabi decided to add his own dramatic subplot.


One morning we woke up and he was barely putting weight on one of his back legs. Limping. Swollen. Very much not his normal, confident self. And we have no idea how it happened.


I did what any reasonable cat parent would do...I panicked. Straight to the vet we went.


The Mysterious Chip Fracture

X-rays showed he had a chip fracture in one of the small bones near his back heel area...the vet named a specific bone at the time (which I promptly forgot because my brain was in emergency mode), but the takeaway was clear: Two weeks minimum of crate rest.


I nodded like I understood. Inside, I was thinking…What does “strict rest” even mean for a cat who believes the house is his personal obstacle course?


Enter: The Internet (and My False Sense of Confidence)

Naturally, I went home and started reading articles about crate rest for cats.

Every single one made it sound so…easy.


“Place your cat in a small enclosure.”

“Provide bedding, food, and water.”

“Keep activity limited.”


Cool. Simple. Totally not emotionally destabilizing for anyone involved. Right?


Totally wrong.


The Playpen That Was Not A Win

I ordered a soft-sided pop-up playpen from Amazon, convinced this was going to be the solution. It gave me so much hope.


The moment Butabi went inside, he LOST it. Howling. Scratching the sides. Chewing on things. Ears hot with stress. Panic-level vocalizations.


It was very clear this was not a calming healing environment. It was a feline prison documentary. Abort mission.


The Laundry Room Makeover

Plan B: convert our laundry room into the nicest recovery suite we could manage.


We added:

  • Stairs up to the washer and dryer (his favorite hangout spot)

  • His bed on top

  • Food nearby so he didn’t have to travel far

  • Litter box

  • Water

  • A pretty cushy setup, honestly


Is it crate-sized? No. Does the vet ideally want super minimal movement? Yes. But here’s the thing...he doesn’t jump in there. He mostly lounges. And…even so…he still got upset.


Lots of meowing. Howling. Looking personally offended by the closed door. Which stressed him out. Which stressed me out. Which stressed everyone.


When You Realize “Perfect” Isn’t Happening

At some point, we had to pivot. We started letting him out under strict supervision, either me or my husband always watching, making sure he wasn’t jumping or sprinting off.


Then came the biggest helper: A heated blanket on our bed + stairs leading up.


Because he’s on gabapentin three times a day for pain, he gets nice and sleepy and will happily camp out on that warm blanket for hours. No wandering. No leaping. Just chillin'.


Is it more work for me? Yes. I am now the official Director of the Butabi Monitoring Department. But honestly? It’s the least stressful option for all of us.


Letting Go of the Internet’s Version of Recovery

I’ll be honest...I kept reading things online and thinking: Am I doing enough? Is this wrong? Why doesn’t our situation look like the article?


And eventually I realized something really important:

Healing doesn’t have to look perfect to still be effective.


Keeping him locked away and panicked 24/7 isn’t helping his bone heal faster. Stress doesn’t promote recovery...for him or me.


Our setup still accomplishes the main goal:

  • Limited movement

  • No jumping

  • Controlled environment

  • Pain management

  • Monitoring


It just looks…different. And that has to be okay.


Waiting, Hoping and Trusting the Process

We’re one week in. Next week he goes back for follow-up X-rays and I am hoping and praying they tell us everything is healing nicely and that surgery is not on the table. I don’t even want to mentally open that folder yet.


For now, we’re doing what we can. Adjusting when needed. Taking it one day at a time. And if you’re in the middle of something similar...trying to keep a cat calm who absolutely did not sign up for restricted movement...please know:


You are not failing if your setup doesn’t match a textbook example.

You are doing your best in your house with your cat.


If you’re currently in the trenches with a healing pet, I’m cheering you on from over here, with one eye on my cat and one hand on the gabapentin schedule.


Hopefully soon I'll have an update with very boring, very good X-ray news.

Takeaway Treats

  • Chip fractures in cats can require weeks of restricted movement and that’s WAY easier said than done

  • Internet advice often makes recovery sound simpler than it actually is

  • Traditional crate rest isn’t always emotionally workable for every cat

  • Creative, supervised alternatives can still meet the same goals

  • Reducing stress matters for healing...for pets and humans

  • If your approach limits jumping and activity, protects the injury, and keeps your cat calmer, you’re probably doing more right than you think


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​ Disclaimer: I’m not a veterinarian, just a devoted pet parent sharing my personal experience. The information in this website and all blog posts is not intended to diagnose, treat or replace professional veterinary advice. Always consult your vet before starting any new supplement/treatment or making any health decision for your pet.

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