Hobbs takes a beating

Poor little cat. I found her sitting in the hall looking profoundly miserable, her fur matted and damp; I tried to pick her up and she screamed and hissed, obviously in pain as she staggered down the stairs, growling as she went. I put a towel on the bathroom floor for her, and she curled up on it, getting the warmth from the underfloor heating. I gave her a few minutes of quantum touch until she growled, then just sat with her, then a bit more Q touch - and repeated for about two hours until she didn't growl when I touched a sore bit. After that she got up, had a drink, mooched about, had a bit to eat, mooched around some more, slept and mooched and slept. The next morning she was still sore but playful, galloping round after the chickens and wanting to play as normal. It was a week before I could pick her up, but she refused to have her life disrupted for long by a bully. I don't know if she'd been mauled by a dog, or duffed up by one of the tomcats. She's a tough little number, and brave as the proverbial lion.