But when he is up and moving around, he's doing just fine. He's taken to life on three legs like a duck to water... and it's not quite a week since his surgery. He can walk much steadier now (though he does tend to stop, flop and take frequent breathers on the way to the kitchen).
I bought him a step-stool to make it easier to get on and off the futon - he bypasses it, jumping up with perfect ease.
I finally saw him in action in the litter box - no problems there! He can't bury it anymore, but half the time he never bothered anyway.
And then this morning as I was pulling on my boots to head off to work (Dad came by last night and did some Dad-magic and fixed the car!), I heard a clomp, clomp, up the stairs. By the time I got over there, he was no where in sight. I called up to Dave to ask if Tux was up there.
"Yeah... he's in the bedroom."
"Well don't let him try to jump on the bed," I replied. "It's too high."
"He's in the bed already..."
Well, alright then.....
A few posts ago, Minding My Own Stitches said it well... animals don't dwell on things; they just adapt and do the best they can. She's absolutely right - and that's a skill we could all use.