One of Lucky's sons, Fingal, was missing for a few days and we'd given him up despite searches when he turned up badly injured at 11pm one night. He was virtually crawling with a terrible hole in his back, but purring to Phil because he'd managed to struggle back home. We got a Vet out of bed thinking he might have to be put down but the vet thought he could be saved. When he was given a pain-killing injection he slumped down with relief. We were greatly relieved at the thought that he might be saved.
He spent several weeks in the vet's care and came home to us a very poor-looking soul with a drainage pipe in his back and we wondered if we'd done the right thing.
When he came out of the basket at home, realised where he was, he went wild with excitement - ran from Phil to John to me and we all welcomed him home.
The Vet's opinion was that he'd been shot. He recovered well and enjoyed life again and we enjoyed seeing him sitting up and playing with the Christmas tree baubles. Unfortunately he only had about a year to fully recover and enjoy lots of love and attention before he developed cancer of the spine, lost the use of his back legs and had to be put down. He was free from the FLV but the trauma he'd suffered through being shot had probably caused the cancer. He was a well-loved, beautiful character and I still miss him but have fond memories of him.
The Chestnut tree which my mother grew from a conker was planted on his grave and is tall and thriving.